


Dear Hearts and Gentle People

by Esuerc



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader has lost parts of their memory, Reader-Insert, Stretch is suffering and he deserves it, but they remember her, i may move this to explicit later, reader is female but is described neutrally for the most part, reader/reverse-harem potentially, they can’t remember any of the other skeletons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2019-12-26 21:38:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 87,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18290738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esuerc/pseuds/Esuerc
Summary: There were flashes of memory from before. But when you wake up in a bed that isn’t your own, only to be greeted by a monster you’ve never met, you have no choice but to trust him. You feel as though he’s familiar in a way, that you’ve seen his face, or one like it... two, three times before? And there’s an itch in the back of your brain, like there’s something you left behind, someone even.This is the story of a human who came to be found by the Horrortale brothers, and nursed back to health after an “accident”. They can’t remember most of what happened before they were found in one of Papyrus’ many traps, and come to find solace in staying with the two skeleton monsters.This story takes place on the surface, in the normal timeline, but the skeletons have been brought together by means other than Sans’ machine.





	1. The Tall Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is technically my first written Undertale story on AO3! I only just recently got into the fandom a few months ago, but I found that the Horror bros don’t get nearly as much love as some of the others!
> 
> Thank you for taking a look!
> 
> (I’m beta-ing this story myself, so if you catch any spelling or egregious grammatical errors, please tell me!)

 

—-

**CHAPTER 1: The Tall Boy**

—

 

There were flashes.

Consciousness.

Unconsciousness.

In the moments you found yourself awake, there were bouts of pain, the tug of something digging into your flesh, cutting deep through the fabric of your clothes.

Time wasn’t a concept. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how long you’d been there, even as the sound of voices below you intermixed with the blackness of not-sleep.

When next you woke, it was in an unknown bed, in a room barely lit by a small bedside lamp. Your body was sore, aches and pains here and there, but nothing life-threatening you could discern from your current state. It was difficult to keep focus, a cloud stuck across the front of your mind like a miasmic fog.

In that fog, however, there were now two voices, one loud but kind, another nearly inaudible, their whisper measured as though it drained them to speak.

At last, after a few more (what you assumed were seconds) of sleep, you managed to stay awake for more than a moment. Twisting your head to take in your surroundings, you first noted the bed was massive, far too large for your body—surely, it belonged to a giant. Next, the small table not far from your bed lay dotted with an assortment of figures, all posed dramatically and strategically.

Further beyond that lay a bookshelf, but you couldn’t make out the books in the din. What you did know was that your body felt heavy, but better than it had, the fog in your head now only a thin mist. 

What bothered you, though, was that you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten to your current location, flashes of memory sticking in place.

You remembered where you’d grown up, where you’d gone to school, what kind of pets you may have had, even your favorite color. But the names and faces of those you associated with those memories were missing like a 404 message. 

A broken link. 

A missing page.

And anything that may have happened immediately before your arrival in that bed was void. Gone.

Perhaps you had a wallet, a phone, anything with a name or address that might lend some insight, but you laid in bed with nothing but a thin shirt and a pair of far too large shorts on your body. 

Had you had those things to begin with?

Finally, you sat up and stretched your arms above your head, testing the limits of your body even as the tautness in your limbs pulled at you. Your joints popped loudly, but it felt good, like an immobile machine whirring back to life.

Sitting there, you tried to peer into the dark again, but couldn’t only glimpse a small window on the far wall, the door to what you assumed was a closet, and an aged computer sat on a worn wooden desk. From the window, moonlight poured through the slats in the closed blinds, the sound of trees and a faraway owl heard just beyond the panes. The wind was gentle that night, just barely heard over the natural ambience around you.

Suddenly, the door to the room creaked open quietly, light filtering in from the hallway beyond—the corner around the bed blocked the door from view, but from the way the light warped, there stood someone just in the doorframe, waiting to hear if you had woken. 

You sat frozen, filled with anxiety and paranoia, but remained upright.

In crept, from around the corner, a tall terribly lanky figure, their head nearly scraping the ceiling even as they slumped forward. They, too, froze when they spotted you awake on the too-large bed, attempting to stand straight.

Only to knock the crown of their head against the plaster of the ceiling. 

Placing a gangly hand to their head, they stepped forward into the dim light of the lamp. Their face was illuminated, the edges of a very gaunt, quite literal skull greeting you.

But you didn’t feel fear anymore. Not at the sight of a walking skeleton, their jagged, crooked, broken teeth, and their beady… eyes smiling at you. No, you felt something akin to familiarity and recognition, and yet you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Regardless, you didn’t move, didn’t shrink into yourself as they approached, their hands coiled into the fabric of a threadbare sweater that closely resembled the one you currently wore.

“YOU’RE AWAKE?” They… he asked, the skeleton’s head quirked slightly to the side.

He was loud, made louder by the stillness of the room.

When you didn’t answer, he continued, his hands releasing from the hem of his shirt, “YOU’VE BEEN UNCONSCIOUS FOR OVER A DAY NOW. I FOUND YOU IN ONE OF MY…” He paused, his eye sockets seeming to shift as though he looked to the side, “TRAPS.”

He gave you a moment to respond, but when none came, he sighed, “HOW DO YOU FEEL? YOU WERE HURT WHEN I FOUND YOU. B-BUT NOT FROM MY TRAP!” He gesticulated with his arms wildly, defensive, “FROM SOMETHING ELSE?” Trailing off, he hoped you would give him some insight.

But you only shook your head with a shrug, unsure of what to say.

A look of uncertainty crossed his skull, “YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” Crossing the gap, he kneeled down next to the bed and looked you in the eye, still much taller than you even then. One bony finger scraped across his chin in contemplation, near to the edge of his chipped and broken teeth, stained a dingy color in the light of the room.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR NAME? DO YOU REMEMBER THAT?” He leaned forward, revealing the very real, very hollow rib cage just down the collar of his sweater. “I THOUGHT YOU MAY HAVE HAD A PHONE IN YOUR CLOTHES, BUT I DIDN’T—“ he stopped, his cheeks dusted a faint orange that glowed slightly in the dark, “I DIDN’T STARE—WHEN I CHANGED YOU, I MEAN. BUT I ALSO DIDN’T SEE A PHONE.” He placed his hands gingerly on the comforter of the bed and scratched at the fabric quietly.

“Must have dropped it…” He whispered, mostly to himself.

Your mouth hung open to answer him, but clicked shut when you remembered not remembering. It was making your head hurt all over again. 

Shifting in bed to face him better—you realized the bed must have belonged to him considering its size—you rubbed at your throat, your mouth terribly dry and sticky.

Your voice would surely crack if you tried to use it.

The unnamed skeleton shot up like a bullet, nearly taking the comforter with him, and stopped himself short from hitting his head on the ceiling again, “YOU’RE THIRSTY! HUMANS NEED WATER, AND YOU HAVEN’T HAD IT IN A DAY! I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

With that, he ran from the room, closing the door loudly behind him.

You were alone in the silence again.

Or so you thought.

Your eyes scanned the room as you swung your legs off the edge of the bed.

The feeling of the carpet beneath your feet was refreshing and cool, the plush material dug between your bare toes.

On the far corner near the window, your gaze stopped. It sat on the dull beams of moonlight illuminating the floor and dust particles in the air, a single red orb floating in the dark.

A small half-moon, sanguine and bright, with the tiniest of black pinpricks in its center gazed back at you before it narrowed and moved. A black mass followed as it moved forward into the sliver of moonlight, revealing dirtied red sneakers and bone-thin legs.

You only stared in return, unsure on how to feel. The hair on your neck stood, and you felt the pace of your heart quicken, but no need to run.

Not yet, anyway.

With a voice that sounded as though he gargled gravel, he spoke in a familiar whisper, “can’t remember, huh? shame.” He looked as though he fiddled with something in the recesses of his pocket, something rectangular and flat if the way he was spinning it was any indication, “guess Paps’ trap messed you up worse than he thought. maybe it’ll ‘catch’ up to you eventually.”

He chuckled low and stepped forward, toward the bed. With his hand extended, he bore down at you with a single illuminated eye, “helped my bro cut you down. ruined his net, y’know.” The bone around his functional “eye” crinkled like clay, his grin wide.

“how ‘bout a handshake?”

—-


	2. Investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos! I haven't written a full-fledged story in a long time, and I’m happy you guys like it so far!
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you again!

**CHAPTER 2: Investigation**

—-

 

The bandana-clad skeleton paced about the room from one end to the other, his boots thudding against the soft rug that lay at the foot of the plush bed.

The room wasn’t his own—the faint smell of flowers or perfume hung in the air, a stuffed animal or two sat on the bed (he’d given you one himself: a small blue platypus), a line of fairy lights wrapped around the headboard, and a laptop dotted with a number of stickers. There was a cork board on the dresser, a number of pictures pinned to its surface with a showcase of the various monsters you’d known.

He’d scoured what he could, trying to find any clue as to where the you had gone, but there was nothing.

You’d left your wallet behind, placed in a small bowl on your dresser, but had taken your phone, keys (your house and car on one ring), and your favorite coat. Other than that, nothing was out of place.

Blue scratched at his skull, his eyes downcast to the floor. There was no sign of a struggle in the your room, no indication you’d been taken. The windows and balcony door were still locked firmly, and nothing had been broken into, any jewelry or knick-knacks you may have had still in place if the thin scatter of dust told him anything.

You had left on your own volition over a day ago and hadn’t returned, hadn’t answered his various calls and text messages. You hadn’t answered anyone, for that matter.

Your phone would have exploded with the number of texts, voicemails, and calls he and his housemates left for you, all begging you to answer.

But there was nothing.

Just silence.

Red, one of the housemates of considerable perversion (you thought it was funny, honestly), was struggling. He put on a brave face, but when he thought no one was looking, zoned out, his stare distant. He’d sent you the most messages out of all of them combined.

There was no reason for you to have left without saying anything to any of them, and he knew it.

It didn’t help that his soft spot for you was blatantly obvious.

Blue sighed and stepped out of your room, making sure to shut the door quietly behind him before heading down the stairs to the kitchen.

You two were supposed to bake today. You were going to show him how to make pumpkin bread, despite it being out of season.

Plans had changed.

When he made it into the kitchen, Blue spotted Papyrus at the sink… but not his Papyrus. Not his brother. The Sans-of-this-timeline’s brother.

He hadn’t a clue as to where his own brother might be at that moment.

Papyrus was busy scrubbing away at a pan destroyed by another culinary “masterpiece”, the obvious marinara stains giving him trouble. But he stopped when Blue came up and placed his cheek against the cold countertop, his normally bright eyes dulled by his fruitless search.

“DID YOU FIND ANYTHING IN Y/N’s ROOM?” Papyrus questioned, his hands buried in soapy water.

Blue shook his head against the counter, his star-shaped eyes darting to nowhere in particular, “I DON’T GET IT. SHE NEVER LEAVES WITHOUT SAYING SOMETHING TO ONE OF US.” He twisted his head so his chin sat on the counter, his shoulders hunched forward, “AND HER CAR IS STILL HERE, BUT HER KEYS AND PHONE ARE MISSING.”

Red and Sans had checked in with Grillby, the town just down the mountain in the valley, but the fire elemental hadn’t seen hide nor hair of you. He promised he’d keep a lookout, though, and ask his regulars, as well.

You had a reputation of kindness with monsters, and Blue hated to think something bad had happened.

Pulling his head up, Blue squared his shoulders and adjusted his bandana, “WE NEED TO CHECK IN THE FOREST. SHE MIGHT HAVE GONE HIKING. WHAT IF SHE SPRAINED HER ANKLE?" His eyes widened and he grabbed at Papyrus’ soap-covered glove, “WHAT IF SHE GOT STUCK IN ONE OF EDGE’S TRAPS? OR BLACK’S?”

Papyrus started down at him, “WE’VE TAUGHT HER BETTER THAN THAT, THOUGH! AND EDGE KNOWS NOT TO DO THAT NOW! And they would have told us, if something happened.” Trailing off, he placed the clean dish on the drying rack.

He was attempting to reassure himself against the worst.

Blue struck his fist against the counter lightly, “WE’VE GOTTA LOOK SOMEWHERE.”

“‘you said she had her phone, maybe?” A voice asked from the island in the center of the kitchen.

Blue and Papyrus both turned toward it, only to find Red sitting in his lonesome on a high stool, the flower print of the upholstery clashing violently with the edgy look he was trying his damndest to portray. “‘we could track her phone.”

Blue’s gaze widened, and he all but raced up to the island, “THAT’S A GREAT IDEA! IF IT’S STILL ON, WE CAN FIND IT!” He bounced in place in front of Red, the other skeleton simply frowning with tired, sunken eyes.

Papyrus joined them as he pulled off his dish gloves, “WHERE DO WE START?”

 

—

 

You only stared at the outstretched hand before you, the skeleton’s long fingers wiggling as he waited for you to take it.

Without thinking, you extended your left hand and shook the outside of his right one—the oddest handshake you think you may have ever done, if ever in the history of humankind. And you blamed it solely on whatever may have happened to you a day or so ago, or maybe even the dehydration making you loopy.

That’s what you were going with.

The skeleton’s face contorted into an expression you couldn’t quite read, but he accepted the handshake nonetheless before shoving his hand deep into a shorts pocket. His other hand still fiddled with whatever he had in the opposite pocket, but it wasn’t your place to pry, so you let it be.

Maybe it was a nervous twitch.

Regardless, you tested the waters and began to stand on shaky legs. The shorts you wore nearly fell from your hips, but you managed to grab them before inadvertently exposing yourself to the monster in front of you. Though the length of the sweater you wore would have hidden most of your embarrassment.

When you stood fully without being scared of falling back onto the bed, you took a moment to look at the skeleton before you more closely.

He appeared tired, his posture hunched and hands balled up in his pockets, his jacket loose-fitting and ragged. His skull wasn’t much better: the spot over his working eye damaged and missing a large chunk of bone, the opposite eye dotted with a number of small fissures as though something had tugged on the socket.

You found it didn’t bother you much.

“‘the name’s sans. sans the skeleton. sans the skin.” A chuckle escaped him at his own corny joke, his eye quick to find you as though he wanted you to laugh along.

And so you did. Not so much out of fear, but more out of… well, you didn’t know what these skeleton monsters were capable of, to be honest.

You could vaguely remember someone made of fire? Or was it water?

And perhaps another that looked vaguely like a goat.

Other than that, there was a blank slate staring back at you. And you didn’t really have anything to base monster knowledge on, so you were left stranded.

The door to the room opened again, this time with far less grace, as the other, much taller skeleton re-entered, a plastic cup in hand.

The cup was dwarfed by the size of the monster, hilariously puny as he handed it to you sheepishly. He was careful not to spill it as it switched hands, the feel of his hands smooth and slightly warm, like a pebble left under the sun.

The water inside the cup was a blessing, cold against the tacky gum of your mouth and throat.

You downed the whole thing in seconds.

Letting out a breath, you placed the cup down and smiled up at the gangly skeleton, realizing you hadn’t learned his name yet. You only knew he was the brother of the smaller skeleton that stood beside you. Which, even when considered smaller, he was still taller than you by several inches.

“‘IS THAT BETTER, HUMAN?” He asked, his fingers knotted together in front of his chest. You smiled and nodded in return, his own mouth arching into what you presumed was a smile—as broken as it was. “‘GOOD. OH! I HAVEN’T INTRODUCED MYSELF! I AM PAPYRUS!” He placed a hand to his chest, the loose sleeve of his sweater swinging to and fro, “AND I SEE MY BROTHER CLIMBED OUT OF HIS DUNGEON TO GREET YOU, TOO. SANS?”

“‘yeah, bro, I greeted her. shook hands, polite-like.” His empty eye socket winked, and left you unsure as to how that worked—bone, and all that.

Papyrus narrowed his sockets at Sans for a moment before glancing back at you, “REGARDLESS, YOU MUST BE HUNGRY.” A hand found its way around your wrist and pulled you toward the door without hesitation, “LET’S GET YOU FED.”

 

—

 

You struggled to keep up with Papyrus’ wide gait, every step he took equal to two or three of your own. And all the while, Sans walked lazily behind the two of you, his head bowed as he stared out from under the crest of his eye socket.

When at last you made it to the kitchen, Papyrus pulled out a chair and placed you in it, pushing it up against the table in a most gentlemanly-like manner before he turned toward the stove. “‘I HAVE JUST THE DISH FOR NEW FRIENDS!” He exclaimed as he rummaged through the cabinets for ingredients.

You could only watch as he began work on what you assumed was spaghetti, your focus dotting around the room from one thing to the next—if only to ignore the way Sans stood against the fridge, staring you down.

He only bothered to move when Papyrus forcefully picked him up and placed him elsewhere. And then he just continued to stare from that spot. And then the next.

Deciding to look out the window in the kitchen, you ignored the constant stares from the smaller skeleton, and watched the moon poke out from just over the treetops.

There was the itch in the back of your mind, like you’d forgotten something important (which obviously you had), and it bothered you to no end that you couldn’t quite place what it was.

Hopefully, it would come back soon.

But for now, the smell of spaghetti cooking was all that mattered.

 

—

 

From his spot against the back door, Sans’ face twisted at the sound of a loud buzz coming from his pocket. You hadn’t noticed it, your attention stuck on Papyrus’ back as he attempted to entertain you with conversation, his loud voice covering any other noise in the room.

He slithered out the back door and into the cool night, closing the door behind him silently even as his weight caused the boards of the porch to creak.

From his pocket, he pulled out a phone, the very thing he’d been fiddling with nervously, and scrolled down the long line of texts on the screen. You had locked your phone with your thumbprint, but that was easy enough to take while you were unconscious, simple enough to disable when he had the chance.

The texts you’d been receiving the past day were all-too funny. You’d only been gone for just over 24 hours, and yet the way the other monsters living nearby pleaded with you to answer made it seem like the world was ending.

Oh, Sans recognized the names, the profile pictures you’d given each of the skeletons that dotted your messages app. And he hated the home screen you had chosen, quick to change it from a picture of you and Red smiling together to a generic “kitten in a grass field”. At least that one didn’t make him angry.

A little hungry.

But not angry.

He scrolled through the messages one more time, the most recent ones being from Blue saying he was “GOING TO SEARCH THROUGH THE WOODS AROUND THE HOUSE IN CASE YOU WERE STUCK!” and Red yelling, “where tf are you?!”.

Almost everyone had messaged you within the last day. All but one.

 

Stretch.

 

Sans’ eye crinkled at that. Something didn’t sit right in the pit of... well, where his stomach would have been. All the others were going mad with your silence, and yet the messages from him had stopped nearly three days ago.

Humming to himself in thought, he closed the app down and took one last look at the kitten sitting in a lush, green field.

He knew the others were smarter than they let on, knew the Sans of this timeline would find a way to track you down if he didn’t do something about it. And fast.

Flipping over your phone, Sans popped off the backplate and yanked the battery from its compartment before shoving it into his pocket. There was no reason to trash it outright—he may find a use for it just yet.

After that, he threw the phone up and caught it, replacing it back in the confines of his shorts with a low chuckle.

 

His brother liked you. Liked the company. Loved having visitors.

And you hadn’t shied away from either of them, even though your memory had gone to shit.

You were a blank slate, for the most part…

 

And he wanted to see where this went.

 


	3. In the Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and kind comments!
> 
> I’m super happy to see you guys are enjoying this as much as I’m enjoying writing it!

**—-**

 

**CHAPTER 3: In the Garden**

 

—-

 

Despite having slept for almost a day (though being unconscious could hardly be considered rest) you fell asleep easily after eating with Papyrus and Sans.

The spaghetti had been delicious. You were surprised to find the younger brother, that being Papyrus despite that you thought it would be Sans, had various traps set up all around the forest to catch rabbits, deer, and other animals--and sometimes humans, if you were anything to go by.

He'd made the spaghetti with deer this time. “A LEAN MEAT” he'd said as he stirred the sauce together with a mess of other ingredients. And it was. You would have never guessed he'd used deer instead of beef, if not from how delectable the dish had been.

But now you slept, curled up against the back of the couch situated in the living room, the window behind you letting in a faint beam of moonlight. A quilt had been placed over you, courtesy of Papyrus, the pattern an amalgamation of mismatched patches and several different threads as though it had been repaired numerous times.

You'd made a promise with Papyrus while you were washing the dishes to help in his garden in the morning--to pay him back for housing and feeding you. He'd nearly denied the request, but when Sans insisted you repay his brother (if even a little), it was settled. That, and they couldn't just throw you out to the world when you remembered close to nothing.

They weren't so cruel.

And that's how you ended up sleeping on the couch, unwilling to take Papyrus’ bed from him another night. Even despite his protests that it “wasn't a good show of host-manship”.

The image of the tall skeleton sleeping on such a small couch upset you somewhat. But for you, it was just the perfect size.

Before you'd fallen asleep, you lamented being unable to remember your own name, though you couldn't do much about that considering. It was bothersome, of course, though you knew memories could be fickle when it came to injuries… though Papyrus never specified how you were injured when he'd found you. Only that his trap wasn't what caused it.

Perhaps you could ask Papyrus to take you to where he'd found you after working in the garden? Try to find a clue of some sort, something he may have missed when he'd found you in his net.

There was no telling.

You may have even dropped your phone in the leaves, or a wallet, like he'd said after you woke up. Or maybe you could find just where you'd gotten “hurt” before managing to find your way into his net trap.

Anything was better than nothing.

But for now, you let sleep take you, the chill of the living room hanging on your shoulders before you pulled the quilt up further.

 

\--

 

As you slept, Sans sat against the wall opposite you, staring silently at your sleeping form much like he had when you'd been unconscious.

Papyrus hadn't known about his watching, even though his brother hovered like a vulture around you for most of the previous day.

He wouldn't take advantage of you while you were asleep.

Of course not.

Don't be preposterous.

He was a monster of standards.

Maybe.

Well, he _had_ taken your fingerprint and stolen your phone… and turned your phone _off_ so you couldn't be tracked. And looked through your messages. And photos (a few of which he'd found particularly appealing). And deleted several of them that had you too close to the other monsters for his liking. And might have looked at one of your social media apps.

But he hardly considered that taking advantage.

Letting out a huff, Sans pushed from the wall and sauntered over to the couch, his footfalls silent on the floor. He stopped when he came around the coffee table, and bore down at your sleeping face with a neutral expression.

From the chill or the way he looked down at you, he wouldn't know, you shivered and curled farther into yourself. Your face pressed into the back of the couch. You blocked Sans from seeing you, the rest of you hidden under his brother's quilt.

You shifted again in your sleep, obviously dreaming from the way your face scrunched up. The quilt pulled down slightly as you tugged at it weakly, your face once again relaxed.

Didn't stop the collar of Papyrus’ sweater from hanging off your shoulder, though.

Sans resisted touching the exposed skin and took a step back, deciding it best to return to his room before Paps found him and accused him of  being an incubus in his spare time.

He didn't port, didn't bother using a shortcut to get to his room, and instead walked quietly down the hall.

Papyrus’ room was just across from his, the old cabin they lived in small and quaint, the hall itself narrow and dark. Sans let his brother have the larger of the two bedrooms, his own much smaller in comparison.

Sans’ bedroom was sparsely decorated, just barely full of the necessities needed for… vague comfort. He'd given most of the nice furniture, once again, to his brother.

Flopping down onto his bed, the bare mattress scratching against the back of his skull, he stared up at the ceiling.

Dawn would be in an hour or so. And much like every night, Sans found himself unable to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time.

He could cope with the nightmares fine. He'd had them for years, learned how to deal with them in his own way.

Didn't help him to sleep, though.

So, instead, he closed his eyes and tried his best to relax, the branch of a tree outside his window scratching at the pane.

He'd get his damn axe out if he wasn't so tired.

No, he let the noise continue. And in a short hour or so, Papyrus would be awake--loudly making breakfast.

Another day would begin.

 

\--

 

Stretch sat on the porch overlooking the yard, watching as the sun came up just over the trees. For several hours, he'd been there, if only judging by the number of cigarette butts in the ashtray next to him.

Inside, the house was quiet, most of the others still asleep. Blue had stayed up late through the night, adamant he'd missed a clue to your whereabouts, only to be forced to bed by his brother.

The small, exuberant skeleton all but fought to stay awake before being pushed into his room, Stretch putting his forehead against the door as he closed it.

Smoke billowed from Stretch's nose before he snuffed out what was left of the cigarette.

 

Several days ago, there had been a crack that ran along the side of Blue's head.

It wasn't major, but he'd noticed it immediately.

Even though it was far from life-threatening, Blue refused to tell Stretch where it'd come from, and claimed it was a secret.

That didn't make Stretch too happy.

It made him jump to conclusions.

Very bad ones.

He and Blue hardly kept secrets from one another, and when one of them showed up with an injury, no matter how small, that wasn't something they kept to themselves.

Leaned forward, Stretch hunched on his knees and listened to the sounds of birds chirping in the early morning, enjoyed the smell of wet earth in the air.

He was scared.

Last night, he looked to where the crack had been on Blue's head several days prior, now fully healed. He kept the grimace from his face, now knowing how the crack had gotten there.

How badly he'd fucked up.

“SHE DEFLECTED IT!” Blue exclaimed proudly, showing him what was left of the crack, “I MEAN, THE BONE ATTACK WAS SLOW, BUT,” He grinned, “I WANTED TO SHOW HER HOW TO STAY SAFE! HOW TO DEFEND HERSELF AGAINST MAGIC… it was supposed to be a surprise.” A finger traced the light indentation where it had been.

Blue trailed off, his bright eyes scanning the living room, only to land on his muddied boots. “I hope she's okay.” He ended, one gloved hand coming up to rub at his arm.

 

Stretch could hardly look at his brother after that--didn't try to read the scathing messages he'd left on your phone a few days ago.

He could feel his sins crawling up his back.

With his hands on his bowed head, he craved to light another cigarette, but knew full well the box in his pocket was empty.

 

He was an idiot.

 

\--

 

“HUMAN, IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP.”

Startled awake, you threw the quilt from your shoulders and sat up, red creases on your cheek from the couch cushion.

Papyrus appeared over you, a grin on his crooked teeth, a petite, pink apron wrapped around him, “GO CLEAN YOURSELF UP! AND AFTER BREAKFAST, WE'LL GO CHECK THE CHICKENS, AND THEN WORK IN THE GARDEN, THEN A HIKE! I HAVE A LOT TO SHOW YOU!”

You stared as he turned and made his way jovially into the kitchen. The quilt found itself folded at the end of the the couch, and you took a moment in the bathroom.

It was plain, but had the necessities to keep clean. You supposed even skeletons had to bathe after hunting, working in a garden, laying traps, et cetera. And soap did well enough to wash your face and what hair you might have had as you ran a quick shower.

Perhaps you could convince Papyrus to take you to… town?

You supposed there was a town, city, or even a village nearby. How else would they have gotten branded soaps and foodstuffs. You really just wanted a pair of undergarments or two, a toothbrush, and a change of clothes.

Did you have clothes of your own when he'd found you?

As if knowing what you were thinking, when you opened the door, still wearing the long sweater, a small bundle lay at your feet.

The clothes must have belonged to you for they were too small to fit on Sans and far, far too small for Papyrus. They smelled freshly laundered, a light hint of lavender somewhere in the folds.

You brought the bundle back into the bathroom and locked the door firmly again. Wouldn't do for one of them to walk in on you changing.

Lifting up the clothes one by one, you pulled on a pair of black pants, the fabric soft. It felt comfortable and just loose enough that you imagined you must have worn them quite a bit. Next came a shirt, some kind of pop culture icon you didn't recognise printed on the chest. It was cute, whatever it was.

Was cute the right word?

And lastly, a coat…

The cloth felt familiar under your fingers, the weight of it something you'd gotten used to after so long. You'd be able to pull it from a clothes pile without looking, just from feel alone.

You suddenly remembered it was your favorite coat!

Pulling it on, you snuggled into it. You'd remembered something! Even if it was as simple as remembering you had a favorite item of clothing.

It was a step in the right direction.

Smiling, you opened the door and headed toward the kitchen, leaving the used clothes folded on the hamper.

You didn't remember your name, but you had a small victory since waking up in the skeletons’ home.

 

\--

 

Papyrus was already busy with breakfast, several cracked egg shells on the counter. At the table, Sans sat with his head against the old wood, a knitted placemat under his head, and a plate of biscuits situated in front of him.

However, he didn't touch them. He wanted to wait for his brother to join him before he ate anything.

He was a monster with manners, damn it. It was tradition. They'd always eaten together.

That, and they had a guest.

It would do well to show her hospitality. Yeah, that's the word he was going for. Sure.

“DID YOU PUT HER CLOTHES AT THE DOOR?” Papyrus questioned without a look his way. He was too busy with the eggs in the skillet to notice his brother's wry smile.

“of course, bro. she'll see ‘em.” He'd left the clothes in front of the bathroom door. Nevermind he'd listened for a few minutes as you showered, and maybe taken a peek at the sliver of scandalous clothing Papyrus had tucked between your shirt and coat.

C'mon, he'd seen panties before. He could be a gentleman… if he wanted.

Your clothes smelled like lavender.

Regardless, Sans watched as you walked into the kitchen. With a smile, you greeted his brother at the stove and stood at his side, only to glance at what he was making.

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO HELP, HUMAN?” Papyrus scraped the eggs into a large bowl. There had to be at least twenty in there. Though, a monster his size? Twenty might not have been enough.

Nodding, he pushed you to the other side of the stove with a gloved hand between your shoulders, and passed you a long, forked--it was a fork. A long, pointy, jabby fork, that just so happened to be forked.

It was a fork.

And you found yourself turning the thick slabs of bacon popping away in the covered pan with your forked fork, your cheeks split with a smile as Papyrus wiped down the counters.

Breakfast was interesting. Sans waited until you and his brother were sat down, and the latter of you two had gotten what he'd wanted from the dishes, before plunging headlong into his food.

He ate like he was starved, almost as if he didn't bother to savor the taste of it all.

Chewing daintily on a biscuit, you didn't notice Papyrus slip a bit of bacon onto your plate, insisting you eat more--too fascinated by Sans to stare anywhere else.

Sans noticed.

He sat straight in his seat, back ramrod, specks of egg on his cheeks as both you and Papyrus watched him.

“what can I say? it's del-egg-table, paps.” A nervous chuckle escaped him, and he wiped the egg away with his hand--hiding from you the fact he licked up the remnants so as not to waste them.

“THANK YOU, BROTHER.” Papyrus was genuine, though his narrowed sockets told a different story. “HUMAN. HAVE YOU EVER PLANTED VEGETABLES BEFORE?”

 

\--

 

And that's how you found yourself on your knees in a large plot of tilled soil, several vegetables already fully grown in some of the other plots.

Papyrus had shown you his chickens first and foremost, sure to bring out his favorite one: a fat Rhode Island Red hen named Lydian. Apparently, she laid the biggest eggs, “SURE TO BE DOUBLE-YOLKS, ALMOST EVERY TIME”.

He hugged the chicken, then.

Next, he brought you to the garden situated next to the house, not far from Sans’ bedroom window. A tree grew near the cabin, a few of its branches flat against the wall and the window, but it didn't hinder the sun from finding its way to the crops.

There, he showed you how to aerate the soil and to plant the seeds, before he went and collected some of the other crops--he was excited over the prospect of making potato soup that night.

“I THINK,” He started gently, a basket full of potatoes appearing next to you.

You glanced up as Papyrus kneeled and planted some seeds in the soil you'd just dug through, “I THINK YOU NEED A NAME BETTER THAN JUST 'HUMAN’.” Patting the soil over the seeds, he continued, “NOT THAT YOU DON'T HAVE A NAME. BUT FOR NOW, AT LEAST. FOR ME AND SANS. UNTIL YOU REMEMBER.”

You scratched your brain for a name, but it was hard. Nothing seemed to fit.

“NO RUSH, OF COURSE! WE CAN GO TO WHERE I'D FOUND YOU, IN THE MEANTIME—WE MIGHT FIND SOMETHING!” He exclaimed, “MAYBE THERE WAS SOMETHING I MISSED.”

Finishing the line of fresh seeds, you and Papyrus re-entered the house and deposited the potatoes in the kitchen sink for Sans to wash later--the skeleton himself asleep on the couch, the quilt you'd used draped over him, covering most of his face.

He was out like a light when you headed down a dirt path into the forest, the ground sloped gently as the trees grew thicker around you.

Papyrus led the way, veering off the path and into the brush through a cut in the treeline.

The air was cool in the shadows of the forest, but easy to breathe. You were along a mountainside, from what you could tell, the gradient giving it away. Through the brush, you spotted a deer fleeing at the sight of your intrusion, bounding away with ease over a fallen log.

For several more minutes, you and Papyrus trekked, until he came to a small clearing on a flat bit of land. Here, the ground had been cleared away somewhat, enough leaves and branches around to hide the numerous amount of trip wires the skeleton had placed.

“MIND YOUR STEP. I'D RATHER NOT CARRY YOU BACK HOME AGAIN.” He warned, but blushed a bit when he realized what he'd said. “NOT THAT YOU'RE HEAVY--IT'S JUST CUMBERSOME.”

Rubbing the back of his skull, the two of you split to scour through the leaves. For several minutes, you two were silent, almost enjoying the chill of the woods, the sounds of the swaying branches above you.

You came across the remains of a cut rope from the trap you'd fallen into, the rest of the net nowhere to be found.

“I TRIED TO REPAIR IT, BUT YOU WERE TANGLED SO BADLY I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO CUT IT.” Papyrus clarified when you showed him the frayed end of the rope tied to a tree.

You must have fallen into the net, triggered it somehow. But why? What were you doing out here in the first place? How did you even end up on the side of a mountain, in the middle of a forest?

You kicked the leaves with your shoes, and scanned the ground with each step. Papyrus was nearby, looking as though he was searching for something else entirely.

His gaze was through the woods, on the blocked horizon. Frozen still, he might have been listening for… you didn't know.

But a moment later, your foot hit something, a quiet clink echoing from the leaves.

You bent low and picked it up, noting it was a thin, gold chain bracelet with a narrow plaque joined to it.

Noticing you'd stopped your assault on the leaves, the skeleton popped over. He lowered himself beside you to get a look at what you had in your hand, two thin fingers plucking it from your palm.

“A BRACELET?” It dangled in his hold, and he squinted in an attempt to read the small script inlaid on the plaque. “KI--” He held it still with his other hand.

 

“KITTEN?”

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My family owns chickens, and we constantly get double-yolk eggs from our bigger hens. They’re perfectly safe to eat, and it makes breakfast and baking easy sometimes, huehuehue!


	4. Rude Awakening

**\--**

 

**CHAPTER 4: Rude Awakening**

 

\--

 

“WAS THIS YOURS?” Papyrus asked as he handed you back the bracelet.

You stared down at it cryptically, unsure if it had been yours or not.

The name, or perhaps even nickname, tingled part of your brain, and yet nothing came of it. A sigh escaped you, and you could only hold the bracelet in your hand, even as Papyrus sat silently on the ground.

He was patient, excited to see if you'd respond, say your first word to him. Jagged teeth clicked together in anticipation when he smiled, his shoulders hunched forward to gaze at you better.

But you didn't speak.

It was back to basics, then.

Standing again, the lanky skeleton wiped away the leaves and dirt from his knees and placed a heavy hand atop your head, “IF IT IS YOURS, THEN PERHAPS IT'S THE PERFECT NAME FOR YOU.”

 

Kitten.

 

“OR MAYBE EVEN 'KITTY’, THOUGH YOU'RE NOT…” He stopped that train of thought, “YOU _ARE_ QUIET LIKE A CAT. HMM.” A bony hand rubbed his chin in contemplation, “I think I prefer Kitten. BUT IT IS UP TO YOU!”

Staring down at the bracelet one more time, you took a gamble and slid it over your hand and onto your wrist, latching the bent hook into place.

It fit perfectly. Not too tight or loose.

Maybe it _had_ been yours.

For the next hour or so, you and Papyrus continued to search through the brush. You found next to nothing save a rather interesting pebble the skeleton pocketed--a new worry stone, he called it--and a thin, blue line of thread he'd gotten tangled around his fingers.

Where the thread came from, you'd never know. Perhaps a bird had stolen it for its nest and gave up halfway through.

A deep woods marionette show.

Some other ludicrous explanation one would try to use when validating an item's existence in a place it shouldn't be.

Like two skeletons living in the middle of the woods with no obvious humans living around them, no apparent source of income, transportation, or access to anything other than a VHS player.

Regardless.

The rock Papyrus pocketed would most likely file his dulled fingers rather than the other way around. Did skeletons file their… bone? Did they need to? Did monsters for that matter?

Wait.

Why did skeleton monsters eat bacon and eggs, and devour biscuits like Sans had? Where did it go? What were the logistics of a skeleton who ate spaghetti?

You stared at Papyrus without realizing it, zoning out even as he waved a hand a foot or so from your face.

Snapping back to reality, you let your shoulders fall away from your ears before you both stood on the edge of the clearing, prepared to head back to the cabin.

“SO, UM…” Papyrus hesitated, a hint of trepidation in his voice, “KITTEN. YES! I THINK WE SHOULD HEAD BACK NOW, UH, KITTEN. WE COULD HEAD BACK… Kitty. Back to Sans.”

There was a beat of silence between the two of you before Papyrus cracked a lopsided smile, his hands wringing at the bottom of his sweater nervously. He was obviously testing the waters with your new name, trying his best not to call you “HUMAN”.

It appeared as though Kitten stuck.

The hike back to the cabin was relaxing enough, though the climb up the slope proved taxing and slightly disastrous. You slipped on a slick root jutting from the ground, your knee and palm skinned slightly.

Papyrus had started a good, long moment at the flush of red on your hand before he shook his head, declaring he'd help clean the “TERRIBLE WOUND” when you arrived at the cabin. Perhaps he was hemophobic--blood had to have been a weird sight to a skeleton.

You hadn't noticed him wipe at the edge of his mouth with his sleeve.

The door to the cabin flew open, nearly pinning itself into the wall of the living room as Papyrus stepped inside. You followed in tow, and were sure to shut the door firmly before you looked to the couch.

Sans was no longer there, but the blanket had been thrown haphazardly to the other end as though he'd kicked it off.

You wondered for only a second where he'd gone off to when you heard Papyrus in the kitchen. A deep baritone followed, obviously Sans, as they conversed about something rather excitedly.

Or, at least, Papyrus was excited.

As you entered the kitchen, he spun to face you before grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the sink, “KITTEN. WE'RE OUT OF SOME OF THE INGREDIENTS NEEDED FOR POTATO SOUP. THEY'RE IMPORTANT TO THE RECIPE.” He ran your hand under the warm water of the sink before handing you the soap.

The skinned bit of your hand stung as you lathered, but the slight white noise feeling you'd felt previously disappeared. Now, the skin was slightly raw, but clean.

Sans stood to the side, eyeing the somewhat empty pantry curiously, before his one functioning eye lazily drew toward you. He watched his brother hold your hand in a towel, the dingy cloth dotted with little specks of red.

Clumsy. You wouldn't have lasted long.

Not back there.

 

You wouldn't have made it past the net trap.

 

He shut the pantry door and headed over to the two of you, his hands shoved into his pockets, slippered feet shuffling on the linoleum tile. “grocery run.” He announced plainly, his eyes set on the towel covering your hand.

Papyrus’ hand overshadowed yours nearly twice, but he was as gentle as a lamb even as he pulled the towel away to inspect your palm. You let him, looking so small in comparison, the large skeleton not only sitting on his knees, but hunched over.

The image filled Sans with… he didn't know the word for what he felt.

It wasn't envy. He wasn't envious you'd let his brother touch you.

Sans didn't have a stomach, but he suddenly craved an antacid.

Also, “Kitten”?

Where had that name come fr--oh, he recognised the name, suddenly, his fingers scraping at your phone in his pocket.

He'd seen that little pet name plastered all over your texts, texts with one particular skeleton monster down the path. Sans ground his teeth with a grin and let his brother finish with your hand.

“kitten, huh?” Sans asked when Papyrus stood to place the contaminated cloth in the hamper to be washed. “suppose it works. no 'kitten’, though, we need groceries.” His shoulders bounced with a low chuckle.

“I CAN GO INTO TOWN AND GET SOME.” Papyrus’ eye sockets widened and his hands clenched in front of him dramatically, “AND BRING YOU,” A finger pointed in your direction, “ALONG. HUMANS HAVE DIFFERENT NEEDS, YES? WHAT BETTER WAY TO GET HUMAN NECESSITIES? AND POTATO SOUP NECESSITIES. AND--”

“you sure, bro?” Sans stopped him tiredly. “she can stay here, if that's easier. I'm sure I can find something for her to do. maybe she can hen-cluck with the chickens.” His eye sockets closed completely, an act you still didn't quite understand.

Their bone was so malleable.

Papyrus squared himself, his hands on his hips, “I WOULD NOT KNOW WHAT TO GET FOR HUMANS. WHAT BETTER WAY TO FIND OUT THAN TO BRING KITTEN ALONG?” He raised his chin, “AND DO NOT BE RUDE TO OUR GUEST. HOW CAN SHE CLUCK IF SHE DOESN'T SPEAK?”

“just try not to bring attention to yourself.” Sans acquiesced, and glanced to the side in thought. You couldn't read the expression on his face, but there was a hint of underlying anxiety in the way his constant smile fell.

“WE WON'T.” Papyrus grinned widely at you, LET'S GET READY, KITTEN. IT'S A LONG WALK INTO TOWN.”

You let Papyrus pull you from the kitchen and down the hall so he could prepare for the supposedly long trek into town. Come to think of it, the only place you'd been to outside of the cabin was where you'd been found.

Maybe the town down the mountain might spark a memory or two!

Sans remained alone in the kitchen, tired, nearly asleep standing up. Earlier, before the two of you returned, he jumped from the couch in an attempt to make something to eat--after such a long time taking care of Papyrus sent him into autopilot.

He'd run to the kitchen, only to find their pantry sparse. Not empty. Just a little too spotty for his liking.

They had vegetables outside, and if desperate, they would eat one of the chickens (not Lydian, of course--her eggs were invaluable). But the pantry looking the way it did sent Sans into a bit of a panic.

Luckily, the small stipend of money the Sans-of-this-timeline gave them every week helped fill the gaps where their garden couldn't. The less Sans had to rely on that pathetic excuse for a monster back at the main house, the better.

And so he watched as you and Papyrus walked from the house, a thick, red scarf wrapped around Papyrus’ shoulders.

It was tattered, and gathered just under his chin. He'd worn it religiously even back in the Underground, alongside his battle body. It surprised Sans when his brother opted for something simpler like sweaters, though he supposed working on a garden in a breast plate and long gloves wasn't very conducive to gardening itself.

Fashionable and so very Papyrus.

But it wouldn't grow crops.

For now, Papyrus wore his beloved scarf when he went to get supplies, covering the mess that had been made of his teeth.

Normally, his looks didn't bother either of them. But with the other Papyrus in the main house going out in public as he pleased, if Sans’ supposed brother were to walk out with a mangled face, people would begin to ask questions.

Regardless, you trotted alongside the towering skeleton, heading down the dirt path that led to the main road. It would take you a short while to get there, Papyrus promised, but the paved road down the mountain would take longer.

Longer still coming back.

With a wave over your shoulder, you looked at Sans one last time before catching up to his brother's long strides, vanishing over a small hill and into the woods.

Sans stood on the porch and watched the two of you disappear with a grimace. If Papyrus wasn't careful, things could go belly up and fast. But his bro was right--if they were gonna keep you there, you needed human... stuff.

Like...

Human stuff like...

He hadn't actually thought about what a human might need aside from food. The brunette human he'd known in the Underground didn't give him much to go on, and even if she did, he didn't pay much attention.

His memory wasn't like it used to be.

You could almost say there were holes in it.

With a snort, he turned back toward the house, the warmth of the couch calling his name.

Paps would keep you safe.

 

\--

 

It may have been 1:30 in the afternoon, but it was his house--he could sleep in as long as he wanted.

Lazily down the stairs, Sans stepped, the old wood creaking under his worn, pink house slippers. Entering the living room, he rubbed at his eye socket, woken by a loud ruckus from just outside the front door.

He thought getting rid of the doorbell would have been a good thing. But whoever was out there decided punching the front door worked just as well.

If the loud voice outside was anything to go by, it could have only been two monsters.

Slowly opening the front door, Sans was greeted by the burning bright eyes of a small skeleton, his blood red bandana pressed freshly that morning, his outfit well-kept and ironed.

“what do I owe the pleasure, Black?” Sans slurred, his shoulders slumped forward as most of his weight sat on the doorknob.

Another skeleton stood behind Black, insanely tall compared to even Sans’ own brother.

Mutt released a long bout of smoke from betwixt his teeth, a little dog treat dangling from his mouth. At least he knew better than to smoke around you when you were there, but now… he didn't really know how to broach the subject of your disappearance.

The smoke billowed into Sans’ face, but he did his best not to flinch.

He wouldn't give Mutt the satisfaction.

Black invited himself inside, pushing his way past Sans with a short huff and flourish. His sharp, red eyes scanned the living room, obviously displeased with what he saw… or perhaps didn't see.

“OUR HUMAN HAS NOT BEEN ANSWERING HER PHONE.” he started, his chin raised into the air.

Mutt shuffled inside as Sans began to close the door, slithering his way past the door frame as it nearly shut on his long coat tails.

Sans would have loved to shut it in his face, dog treat and all.

The gangly monster sat himself down on the couch and watched his brother stand before Sans, his brother's back ramrod straight with his hands relaxed behind him.

One would like to think Mutt wouldn't take up much space considering his lithe figure, but he was sure to put his muddied boots across the couch cushions.

The leather was smeared with dirt, the sight making Sans inwardly cringe.

He'd spent a lot of money on that couch.

Sans tried his best to ignore Mutt and focused on Black fully, who still stood waiting in the foyer.

“maybe if you didn't text her in all caps, she might respond more often.” Sans joked, even though his own brother was guilty of the same thing. As was Edge. And Blue.

“I DIDN'T JUST TEXT HER.” Black corrected, his hand swinging in front of him for emphasis, “I CALLED HER AS WELL. IT GOES STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL. I DEMAND TO KNOW WHY SHE IS IGNORING ME.”

Sans knew Black and Mutt would find out eventually, though it appeared they hadn't put two and two together just yet.

He kept a bead of sweat from rolling down his skull, hiding it with the sleeve of his coat as though he were merely scratching his crown.

Red, Blue, and Papyrus had approached him the previous day, begging him to track your phone--only to find your phone couldn't be located at all.

The revelation didn't make Red happy in the slightest.

They were back at square one.

The traps and puzzles surrounding the house had been clear, and in town, Grillby still hadn't seen hide nor hair of you--and none of his patrons came forth with any information.

As much as Sans hated to admit it, there was one place they hadn't looked yet:

 

Axe and Crooks’ home.

 

He knew the mirrors of him and his own brother no longer… _caught_ humans, so to speak, but he couldn't rule them out on principle alone.

And if he went to investigate, he knew Red would want to come along.

Making his way into the kitchen without answering Black's question, he motioned for him to follow. The smaller monster took his silence in stride and marched into the large kitchen, his gloved hands on his hips.

The heels of his boots clicked against the tile. How he managed to walk through the grassy yard in heeled boots was beyond Sans.

Though he did remember seeing Black ride on Mutt's shoulder from time to time like a demented parrot, so he didn't put it past him.

Sans would take his slippers any day. And his sneakers if he was feeling adventurous.

Before he even thought of dealing with Black, a pot of coffee was in order.

Black stood expectantly, the toe of his boot tapping impatiently. Mutt hadn't followed him into the kitchen, so Sans hoped the Nosy Nancy was still seated on the couch in the living room.

 

\--

 

Mutt hadn't moved from the couch.

The couch Stretch normally napped on.

The couch Stretch would _like_ to nap on.

Locked in a battle of stares, neither of them willing to budge in the slightest, Stretch and Mutt glared each other down.

Moving his honey lollipop across his teeth, Stretch licked at the sweet in an attempt to keep himself from smoking a second package of cigarettes that day.

But with Mutt giving him a wry smile, he could only scowl. That irritating smirk said “I know what you did. The guilt is written all over your face.”

Rubbing the heel of his boot into the couch, Mutt leaned further into the soft leather, his eyes closed as if to sleep.

“get out.” Stretch told him plainly, mumbling as his hands clenched in the confines of his pullover pocket.

“you first.” The lanky skeleton splayed on the couch retorted, his foot flicking across the slope of his opposite knee, “oh wait. you said that to y/n first, didn't you? naughty, naughty.” he pulled a box from a pocket inside his long coat, lighting a full-fledged cigarette in the house.

It wasn't necessarily against the rules. But with a human living among them, they didn't want to risk getting you sick.

 

Mutt knew.

 

“how long she been 'missing’?” Mutt questioned through a large puff of smoke. It wafted toward the ceiling only to be scattered by the slow-moving ceiling fan.

Stretch remained silent.

_You'd been gone for almost two days._

When he'd gone to check where he'd left you, where he'd seen you last--you were nowhere to be found.

It bothered him greatly.

He had only wanted to scare you, after what happened with Blue--back when he didn't know the specifics of what happened.

Stretch told himself, at first, that it was justified.

It was only until Blue told him you hadn't meant to hurt him during training. That you'd done “SO WELL” at deflecting his attack--he knew he'd made a mistake, jumped to conclusions.

And now not a one of them could find you.

Where had you gone?

Maybe you had taken his… _less-than-kind_ words to heart and left. Punished all of them for the shit he'd put you through.

Had he ruined one of the only nice things they had on the surface, in a timeline that wasn't their own, because of his worry, his jealousy?

Yes.

The correct answer was yes.

And Stretch knew it.

He was one hell of a Judge, alright.

Mutt chuckled at the thoughts that shone across the orange-clad skeleton, burning his cigarette down to the filter, “gold for your thoughts?”

Giving up on his nap, Stretch turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen. He wanted to know what Sans had told Black concerning--

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE Y/N IS?!” Black gnashed his teeth together, the bone of his jaw creaking with strain. His red eye lights were dilated and blazed with fury, any pretense of joking gone.

Removing his claws from the deep divots in the kitchen island, Black stomped up to Sans, who could only stand with his hands up in mock surrender.

Stretch should have done a 180° then and there.

“WHERE WAS SHE LAST? WHY WASN'T ONE OF YOU WITH HER?” Black barked loudly, his voice shaking the glass in the cabinets. He was full of self-righteous indignation, his hands shaking at his sides.

Sans remained calm even as magic began to accumulate in the air, his brow knitted, “she's allowed to do her own thing, Black. we can't babysit her all the time. last I'd seen of her, she'd gone on a walk.”

Black's face scrunched at the lack of information. “SO WHY HAVEN'T YOU SEARCHED FOR HER? ASKED GREATER OR LESSER DOG TO SNIFF HER OUT? EVEN DOGGO WOULD--”

With a huff, Sans raised his hands calmly to bring Black down from his tirade, “there's one place we haven't checked yet. I'm going to go by there today to see if they'd seen her.”

Black didn't back away, “WHERE?”

“axe and crooks’ cabin. the might have se--”

“THEN THEY HAVE ALREADY EATEN HER BECAUSE OF YOUR NEGLIGENCE. WHY HAVEN'T YOU BEEN THERE?” Black stormed away from Sans and across the kitchen, his shoulders hunched around his chin, a thin red aura surrounding him.

He was furious.

Stretch had to agree. They should have already consulted with the two brothers in the woods, the very two they were wary of themselves.

The timeline they'd come from hadn't been kind to monsters. And it wasn't any kinder to humans. It was no secret what they'd eaten to survive down in the Underground, in a timeline where food was scarce and monsters starved.

Stretch backed away into the living room before he could be seen by Sans and Black, spotting a now empty sofa against the far wall.

 

Where was Mutt?

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as Axe and Crooks' names are concerned, those are the ones I've seen most often.
> 
> I've also seen Marrow and Sugar.
> 
> Rot.
> 
> Etc.
> 
> So, you can always change the name around if you want!


	5. I Saw a Ghost Today

**\--**

 

**CHAPTER 5: I Saw a Ghost Today**

 

\--

 

The first thing Mutt noticed when he appeared in your room was the large, black mass asleep on your bed. It wasn't hard to figure out the lumpy mess was Red, his arms curled around one of your pillows, his face pressed deep into the fabric.

Judging by the wrinkled comforter, he'd been there a while.

The monster was fast asleep, but his brow was knitted, sharp teeth slightly parted as he dreamed.

It must not have been a good one.

Mutt silently crept across the room to your dresser, spotting the photos you had pinned on a corkboard. He grimaced when the old wood of the floor creaked under his boots, small patches of mud caked on the surface.

Well. 

_ He _ wasn't gonna clean that.

At least he dodged the rug at the foot of your bed. He had  _ some _ class, believe it or not. (The couch downstairs wasn't yours, per se. It was Vanilla's--therefore, fair game.)

The corkboard was scattered with images of you and Red, Blue, Papyrus, even one of him and Black--before they were unceremoniously kicked from the house for “conflicting” personalities.

You hadn't minded him and his brother, tolerating Black's boisterous personality and his own lecherous advances. Deep down, you'd known Black was actually quite sweet.

He just had an image to maintain.

Mutt, he would admit, was… well.

You'd called him a “horndog”, which was a fair enough statement. And he'd proven himself worthy of the moniker more than once. Didn't stop you from giving him his own nickname, though.

 

_ Doodlebug _ .

 

A bit childish, but Mutt found he liked it.

But only you dared call him that. Anyone else would find themselves short a few fingers. And maybe a rib or two.

Doodlebug's… Mutt's, rather, eyes roved across the photos until he reached the bottom, his gaze trained on something sticking out from underneath the board. He nearly didn't notice it, the small corner of a flat piece of… paper, perhaps, hidden away from view.

From under the corkboard, Mutt yanked the paper, only to find it was another photo, this one now slightly scratched from having been shoved away.

It was you and Stretch.

Curious.

Red snorted sharply in his sleep, curling around the pillow tighter than ever, his sharp fingers dangerously close to tearing the pillowcase. Mutt stayed quiet for a few seconds, waiting for the smaller monster to quiet down before he inspected the picture closer.

It must have been a Gyftmas photo, judging by the decor in the background. Eyeing it closer, Mutt spotted Blue standing on the couch holding a bottle of what he assumed was alcohol--the monster's innocent facade went only so far.

You appeared happy, smile wide, eyes crinkled, wearing an ugly sweater with a skull on it. The skull had a red and white hat on, and read “Team Naughty” beneath it. 

Figures.

You and Stretch were close in the picture, his arm wrapped tightly around you shoulder, your head under his chin. He looked happy enough, though the picture had been from a while ago.

My, my, how things changed.

Placing the photo back where he'd found it, making sure to scratch over Stretch's face with the bottom of the corkboard, Mutt made his way to the balcony doors. They were locked, but the panes of glass separated by wood could be easily broken.

Anyone with the magic to shortcut could simply make their way up onto the balcony without a second thought, and into your room if they so felt like it.

Or, you know, a ladder. But Mutt was lazy.

Why do things the hard way?

Red rolled over on your bed, taking the abused pillow with him, the skylight letting a small patch of sun sit on his shoulder. Creeping up, Mutt glanced at a small, fuzzy, blue platypus seated on your other pillow. It was a gift from Blue--a prize from a crane game, probably--but you'd kept it all the same.

Thinking of snatching it to shove it in Red's mouth, he reached forward and--

“MUTT!” Black called from the kitchen down below, his voice echoing through the house.

Mutt's hand stopped short and receded back into his overly-long sleeve, disappearing as Red stirred against your pillow.

 

\--

 

With a grumble, Red squinted against the sun shining on his face. He angled away to hide further into the pillow tucked under him, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep.

The pillow against his cheek was soft, and it smelled so much like you. He'd been there since last night, unable to sleep--taking solace from being in your room, surrounded by things that smelled like you.

He'd know that scent anywhere.

What was Black doing in the house, anyway? He only bothered to come over when he wanted something from them.

Some humans had roosters to wake them up.

They had Black.

And Edge. And Papyrus. And Blue.

_ And the smoke alarm. _

Red sat up with the pillow still in-hand, fixing the hood of his coat and adjusting his collar. He'd managed to sleep a bit, but it had been fitful. Normally, his nightmares kept him from sleeping at all--he loved his short naps, for a reason.

He couldn't have nightmares if he didn't sleep long enough to dream.

Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he begrudgingly put your pillow back where he found it--gently--before thudding onto the floor. He was up now, for better or worse.

Down to the kitchen he went, only to stop when he saw Black and Mutt by the front door, Vanilla in front of them. Stretch was nearby, a sheet of paper on he coffee table him as Blue chirped over his shoulder different food stuffs and essentials.

Most of it was sweets.

He couldn't help but notice Stretch wrote down every single one. 

Mommycoddle.

Fuck shopping. Red would eat a whole ramen pack dry before anyone dragged him into town.

Only good place was Grillby's anyway--and it wasn't even  _ his _ Grillby.

“YOU CORRECT YOUR MISTAKE, AND REPORT BACK TO ME.” Black commanded of the blue-coated Sans, his finger pointed and a fist on his hip, “I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU FIND, IF YOU FIND  _ ANYTHING _ AT THIS POINT.”

With a flourish, Mutt opened the front door and allowed his brother to exit first, making unending eye contact with Stretch.

There was a beat of electricity in the air as they stared each other down, and Red couldn't help but wonder what had gotten under their bones this time.

But as soon as it began, it ended.

Sans shut the front door quickly just as Mutt's coat cleared the entry, putting his back against it with a sigh.

“the hell was that about? what did Black want?” Red questioned groggily, his socked feet twiddling against the hardwood.

“he was asking why y/n hadn't been answering her phone. told him all we knew.” Sans’ eye lights traveled to the floor as he closed his sockets, and pushed away from the door, “told him there was one place we hadn't checked yet.”

Red was quick to the uptake, his mouth curling in disgust, “the people-eaters.” He stated flatly.

He didn't want to think Axe (or whatever name he was going by that week) and Crooks would eat you. They'd moved past that--or at least they said they had.

It wouldn't have done them any good if humans went missing around their home. And it would have been a bad look for monsters everywhere, nevermind the number of timeline clones living under one roof with a single human.

Last thing any of them needed was to be forced Underground again by two freaks who couldn't control their instincts. Or someone who got them found out.

But Red nodded, and ran a hand across the top of his head, feeling the aged cracks left behind on his skull.

He'd go along with Sans to see the crooked monsters in the woods, if that's where this was headed. If only to ease the tension that sat in his soul.

Red still couldn't understand why you'd up and disappeared without saying something. Had he done something wrong? Rubbed you the wrong way? 

He chuckled a bit at that one.

What if you had been taken while you were out on your walk, and were spirited away far from home. Kidnapped or worse.

He didn't want to think about it.

“when are you headin’ over there?” Red questioned Sans as he walked into the kitchen to grab his mug, the coffee still steaming as though just made.

“in just a bit.” He took a long sip, his sockets closed, “don't really want to go there by myself, if I can be honest. you know how volatile Axe can get.”

“nah, I'm comin’ with.” Red took the remainder of the coffee in the pot for himself, drinking it black.

There wasn't any way he'd let you slip through the cracks. If anyone was going to find you, it had best be him.

“'sides, I'd never miss a chance to rattle Axe's bones a bit.”

 

\--

 

The mountain air was crisp and refreshing as you strode down the road toward town. The paved path wound down the mountain gently, not too steep that you worried about tiring yourself out on the way back.

Though, Papyrus offered to carry you on his back “JUST IN CASE!” you got winded. Carrying groceries  **and** you? He was certainly a champ.

The two of you walked in companionable silence, Papyrus’ hands wound loosely about a small bundle of thick, reusable bags. Some were generic, solid colours, while others had pictures of various cartoon characters.

It was obvious they were well-worn.

Trees dotted the steep side of the mountain to your right, walls of stone here or there where the earth cut sharply toward the sky. Water ran down the rock walls in several places, adding a sort of mist to the air.

“I MUST ADMIT, I HAVE ENJOYED YOUR TIME WITH US SO FAR.” Papyrus admitted. He stared down at you as you walked. 

He was closer to the road than you for “SAFETY REASONS”, occasionally pushing you off the road out of worry. It had nothing to do with potential low-hanging branches hitting him in the face.

“AND I BELIEVE SO HAS SANS. HE MAY NOT SAY IT, BUT I THINK SO.” His skull curved into a soft smile, “I WAS WONDERING, THOUGH,” He paused, his smile falling somewhat, “IF YOU REMEMBER YOURSELF, WILL YOU VISIT US?”

You hadn't thought about it. You'd only known Sans and Papyrus for a few days, but it was obvious at least one of them had already built a bit of a connection. You supposed Paps had known you slightly longer than you'd known him… though you were unconscious for most of it.

Maybe that didn't count.

But maybe it did to Papyrus.

You nodded nevertheless, which caused his smile to beam back up, his cheeks a light orange. They were sweet--though you hadn't spent much time with Sans. If and when you remembered what had happened, you would make a note to see them.

If only for the sugar skull of a skeleton walking next to you.

A silence sat in the air again, but it was comfortable. The trees were loud with birds, and the distant sounds of the town traveled on the wind. All in all, it was a nice day for a walk.

Papyrus stopped and stared off to the side as two large doe tread through the woods. You stood next to him and watched the deer glance at you. Their ears darted this way and that as they ate at a cud of grass, their tails flicking.

The monster was entranced by the sight, the gentle deer who stared right back.

You don't know if you'd seen any deer in the woods near the house. You'd only spent time in the garden thus far, too busy planting seeds to pay much attention to the world around you.

The doe suddenly bound away deeper into the foliage, the whites of their bottoms disappearing into the brush as if something had spooked them.

A strong gust of wind blew down the mountain shortly after, ripping a few of the bags from Papyrus’ hands. He made an attempt to grab them as they fluttered about on the wind, even his long arms too short to grab at them.

You jumped a bit as he all but yelped, racing after them as they blew into the woods a ways. “STAY THERE, KITTEN! I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

Remaining by the road, you couldn't help but smile, hearing him stumble about to get one of the vibrantly-colored bags. From the road, it would seem like you were starting at nothing for how deep Papyrus had chased after them.

From up the hill, you heard a car coming close, and instinctively moved farther from the road. You hadn't seen anyone else on the mountain so far, but you supposed other people had to live there outside the two brothers.

Waiting for Papyrus to clamber back, you stood patiently, staring into the woods. If he took any longer, you'd go in and help him.

You grinned.

Make sure the deer didn't eat him.

 

\--

 

A loud, resounding knock struck the front door, startling Sans awake from his nap. The thick blanket had been thrown over is head to block the sun that shone down on the couch, the faintest hint of light shining through the fabric.

The knock came again, three to four times, the door vibrating against its hinges.

With a growl, he threw the blanket off him, the cloth getting stuck at the jagged edges of his cracked skull, and stumbled to stand. Shambling to the door, Sans undid the two deadbolts he'd put there when they first moved in, but kept the chain lock in place.

Papyrus knew how to get in when you and him returned from the store later--he wasn't worried about keeping his brother out in the cold.

Just a few monsters who thought they deserved to come inside without an invitation.

Opening the door with a loud creak, Sans stared out onto the porch with only his good eye visible in the doorframe, the chain keeping the rest of the door shut.

Out on the covered porch was Red, dangerously close to the door as it had opened. The  _ other _ Sans (this timeline's) stood behind him, his hands shoved in his coat pockets.

Sans immediately slammed the door shut in Red's face and engaged one of the deadbolts. A quiet “fuck” could be heard beyond the door, Red's fist striking it again.

“c'mon, axe. we just need to ask you a few things.” Vanilla told him calmly. Sans curled the bone around his mouth in a snarl.

 

He despised that name. 

 

He wasn't Axe. He wasn't Marrow. He wasn't Rot. He wasn't any of those nicknames the other versions of himself gave him. He was  _ Sans _ , and he wasn't about to kowtow to their idiotic naming rule.

As far as he was concerned, he didn't live in the main house. Therefore, their rules didn't apply in the slightest.

But--

Sans knew exactly why they were there.

 

_ You _ .

 

It sure had taken them long enough to even bother to come by that week--almost like it was too much an effort to visit him and Papyrus. Nevermind adding you into the equation.

If they were truly worried about your welfare--which was obvious from the number of text messages on your stolen phone--they should have dropped by yesterday. Hell, Vanilla or one of the other monsters could have simply called them… Wait, no. He remembered destroying the old keypad phone with his axe almost as soon as they'd moved in.

Sans chuckled at that.

That phone rang approximately once before he smashed it to pieces.

But that wasn't Sans’ problem.  _ You _ weren't a problem. You were actually proving to be a solution to his and Papyrus’ somewhat boring life on the surface--a nice, new outlet. Someone to commune with than themselves.

He wasn't about to let two deadbeat skeletons take that from him. Especially not from his brother.

He wanted the two rejects on his porch to shove off back to their fancy house, and leave them be.

A surge of magic filled the air, and suddenly both Red and Vanilla stood in Sans’ living room. “didn't really want to do it that way, but we just wanna talk.” The white-eyed one spoke up.

“you're a-door-able.” Sans all but sneered, ripping his phalanges from the doorknob. “what do you want, then?”

Red stepped up first, his red eye lights tiny in his sockets, “our human is missing. y/n. and we ain't checked here yet.” He bowed his head somewhat, his chin hidden in the collar of his turtleneck.

Sans chortled and moved away from the door, his one eye on the two monsters invading his home, “so, you lost your pet? I say you shoulda put a collar on them.”

The jab was at Red--the oaf and that collar around his neck. As if it did anything to protect him from getting his head busted open.

“yeah? and I say you should shut your fuckin’ mouth. how do we know you still ain't eatin’ people? how do we know you didn't just snatch y/n and--”

“Red, calm down.” Vanilla interjected before Red got more heated. “we just wanted to know if you'd seen her? search the place a bit?”

Sans narrowed his eye at them. “I haven't seen your pet anywhere near here. didn't know you kept one.” He honestly couldn't remember if the others had mentioned you at one point, given his terrible memory. That, or they'd stayed tight-lipped around him whenever they dropped by for a surprise visit.

Assholes. What gave them the right to come into his home and snoop? Of course, Sans  _ did _ know where you were,  _ had _ seen you, and was currently waiting for you and his bro to come back later that evening. But that still didn't mean they could barge in and accuse him of eating a human.

At least not in the way they were talking.

Besides, even if you  _ were _ here, you didn't remember a lick of them. If they tried to take you from him,  _ he _ wouldn't be the villain. To take it further, his bro was a hero--he was the one who found you.

But with a roll of his eye, Sans relented and leaned against the wall, “fine. but don't go through paps’ things.”

Red glared at him, the crackle of magic still thick, before he turned on his heel and marched toward the hall, Vanilla standing still.

There was a beat of silence betwixt the two mirrors, the white-eyed Sans staring the other-him down, “are you two doin’ okay out here? enough supplies? food? we can--”

“we're fine. I don't want your charity.” Papyrus was typically the one to take any money from Vanilla or the others when they came by. Sans didn't want the pity, even though he had to admit the money filled the gaps where their own crops and traps couldn't--the reason you and Paps had gone to the grocery store in the first place.

Sans let his shoulders fall. What if you hadn't gone with Papyrus into town? Vanilla and Red would have found you, taken you from Paps, even if you didn't remember them.

Sure, he knew he technically didn't have the right to keep you… but neither did they. None of them were bonded to you--Sans had seen the damage done to your soul when his brother cut you from his trap, but there was no soul bond in sight, no tether.

As far as he was concerned, you were fair game.

“alright.” Vanilla relented quietly, but noticed it was rather quiet in the house, “where's Crooks?”

 

\--

 

Red stomped down the hall, knocking what mud he had on his shoes into the long rug that ran its length.

Fuck Axe.

Throwing open the door to Axe's room, he stared into the dark. The window was mostly blocked by an old blanket, the bed unmade, the floor littered with socks.

Just like his room.

He took a deep breath and gagged. At least his room didn't smell like a fuckin’ barn.

Stepping inside, he made his way to the center of the room to take it all in. Nothing looked off. He didn't spot a trace of you in there.

Not under the bed. Not in the closet. Red even looked in each one of Axe's dresser drawers in case the sick fuck had chopped you up and was saving you for later.

Though, he supposed he might have smelled that.

Slamming the last drawer shut, he made sure to disrupt the trash tornado in the corner, scattering its contents to the floor as it dissipated.

Red walked back into the hall and toward Crooks’ room. From down the way, he could see Axe glaring at him even as he threw open the door with a bang, the knob hitting the wall.

Entering, he found Crooks’ room clean and tidy, much like his own brother's. Everything had a place, all the books on the shelves lined up evenly, the action figures on his table posed in different positions--Red flicked one over--and not a smell in…

Red stiffened.

He knew that smell.

His eye light grew large as he took in a deep breath and held it.

 

**He knew that smell.**

 

Where? Where was it coming from? Red twirled and headed to the closet, yanking open the door.

Nothing.

Under the bed?

Nothing.

Fuck it! The dresser?

_ Nothing _ .

He stood in the middle of the room and kept breathing in the faint, familiar scent.

He'd recognise it anywhere.

 

_ It was you. _

 

_ His Kitten had been there. _

 

Or, at least, at some point you'd been there. He could smell you in this room--it was faded, but it was there all the same.

Clenching his fists tightly, Red just nearly ran out the door to throttle Axe, that lying fucker, when he stopped. His fingers dug into the framing around the door.

A fight with Axe was not something he wanted to get into, especially when it was just him and Vanilla. And with one HP a piece, that was skating on thin ice.

Red rubbed at his sternum to calm himself down, his soul ablaze with anger, hope, and desperation. You'd been there, long enough that your scent left a trace.

And thank fuck it was in Crooks’ room and not Axe's. But that still left the question as to where you were. What led you to being there in the first place? Had the Crooked Brothers dragged you away when you were taking a hike? You couldn't have gone willingly to them.

You hadn't even known about them.

And where  _ was _ Crooks? He wasn't in the house when he and Vanilla came in--what if you were with him? Maybe he'd squirreled you away when he saw two familiar monsters coming up to the house?

He couldn't know for sure.

Red unclenched his hands and took a deep breath to steady himself. He pulled his collar out of habit and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

He'd come back here later, after dark, and see what was up. He'd find out for himself just what Axe and Crooks were up to, what they'd potentially done with you.

Fuck, he hoped they hadn't eaten you.

 

Not his Kitten.

 

Please not his Kitten.

 

Readying himself, Red walked down the hall and back into the living room, his eyes dark and grin tight. Vanilla turned to look at him, the air thick with forced small talk.

“you done invading our privacy?” Axe quipped.

“yeah.” He replied shortly, his tone dark, “yeah, I am. didn't see nothin’, Vanilla.” Red stood beside the other him--the one without a hole in his head, “let's get the fuck out of here.”

Vanilla gave him a look, but acquiesced. “are you sure you two don't need anything before we go? I could--”

Sans stopped him short, “we're good. and if you're done, quit bothering us.” He stared off into the kitchen as he pulled himself away from the wall.

“moved out here for a reason.”

 

\--

 

Blue fiddled with his phone as Stretch drove down the long road that led along the curve of the mountain. 

From the occasional laugh, his brother must have been looking through Undernet or another social media site. It was a half-chuckle most of the time, not his usual, happy, loud guffaws.

Stretch had wanted to get out of the house, get his brother to do something other than mope about your disappearance. 

He hoped it would work on himself, too.

 

He didn't hate you.

 

He'd now regretted what he'd done, what he'd said to you, in-person and on your phone. He let his jealousy and over-protectiveness control him to the point that you'd vanished completely.

Stretch clenched at the steering wheel of his Jeep, the radio just barely audible. The urge to smoke was strong, but he wouldn't light up around Blue. And even then, he was completely out.

Leaning back into his seat, he loosened his hold on the wheel and tried to relax. They were over halfway to town so far. Another twenty minutes and they'd be there.

A drink at Grillby's was starting to sound nice.

Up ahead, Stretch spotted someone on the side of the road--a hiker or jogger, no doubt. They frequented the mountain to get a taste of the fresh air and steep hills, pushing themselves to their limits to work out.

He was too lazy to do it himself, but he admired their tenacity.

Coming closer, his brow furrowed and he straightened his back. Blue laughed again beside him, the sound of what had to be a cat video playing through his phone speaker.

The closer he got, the more and more his soul beat in his chest, loud and anxious. It wasn't until he was just passing the hiker, that he recognised the coat they wore, that familiar cut and color.

Stretch all but slammed on the breaks, sending Blue's phone flying from his hands and his seat belt digging into his sternum.

“PAPY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He yelled, holding his head from the whiplash he'd gotten from the sudden stop.

Stretch angled his rearview mirror around to face the road behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of that person again.

Forgoing the mirror, he threw off his seatbelt and fell out the door onto the road, Blue opening his window to lean out.

The orange-clad monster stood at the bumper of his Jeep and gazed back up the road, but saw no one. His chest hurt, his soul aching painfully against his ribs.

“PAPY, WHAT'S WRONG?” Blue asked again, still leaned out the window, now more concerned with how strange his brother was acting.

Stretch knew what he saw.

Knew his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

 

It was you.

 

\--

UP NEXT:

**CHAPTER 5: Not Your Human**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I've got some NSFW chapters available already for this story! You can decide if they're canon or not!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388316
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388316


	6. Not Your Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue has a bad time.

\--

 

**CHAPTER 6: Not Your Human**

 

\--

 

The town was vibrant, dotted with vivid purple banners showing off a gold symbol that tickled your brain. You recognised it, right? That glyph, the one with the wings and triangles?

It was a royal symbol.

But placing it to a face was difficult. Something or someone white and furry? Horns, maybe? Golden flowers?

Opting to let your mind work itself out, you looked over to Papyrus, who stood waiting at a crosswalk. His scarf was pulled up over his mouth to hide his jagged teeth as he hunched over. He walked through the house the same way, always too close to hitting his head unless he was outside.

His back must hurt quite a bit, you thought. A chiropractor would have their job cut out for them with a skeleton.

But he walked so tall before on the way there, not folded in like he was now.

Was he embarrassed about his appearance?

You didn't think his teeth looked too bad. Maybe a bit painful, but nothing you'd shy away from. All he needed was to see a dentist, get himself straightened out.

You thought he would look rather cute with braces.

And, sure, he was nearly, if not over, eight feet tall, but you were certain there were monsters bigger than him. Actually, there was one in the distance who stood high above the lamp posts… or, no. No, that was a smaller monster balancing hot dogs… on its head.

_ Regardless. _

Maybe Papyrus was simply self-conscious.

Standing next to you, he waited patiently for the signal to change despite no cars coming, and had stopped you when you attempted to step into the street to cross anyway.

“THERE ARE RULES, KITTEN. SAFETY RULES.” He scolded with a wag of his finger as he plopped you back on the sidewalk beside him, having literally lifted you out of the street by your arms with ease.

He was stronger than he looked. Especially considering he had no muscle. No meat on his bones.

That was a bad joke, you would admit.

Immediately, Papyrus curled inwards toward his chest, his fingers knotted together, “Wouldn't want you to get hurt.” The tiny pinpricks in his eye sockets shifted to the ground.

You couldn't help but smile and shake your head. Despite the outburst, he meant well. It seemed as though he might have had to keep Sans on the straight and narrow more than once given their interactions. It made you wonder which of them was the oldest.

Once the signal changed, the two of you crossed and headed further into town, passing the hot dog monster. There were several other monsters who walked about, only giving you and Papyrus the shortest of glances.

Some were furred, their coats bright, startling colors, others feathered, a few covered in scales. You think you saw a fish at one point. Oh, and man made of fire? A fireman?

A fire-man. The dash was important.

That one was very curious, and you glanced around Papyrus to stare at the fire-man who stood before a small pub-like shop. It read “Grillby's” above the door in a fancy font, one that tickled your brain just alongside the rune you'd seen on the banners.

You were so close to remembering. You just knew it.

Papyrus pushed a low-hanging branch of a tree from his face as he walked and you spared him a glance of sympathy. Maybe he would do better to walk closer to the shops than the street, but for some reason he seemed adamant on keeping you away from the road.

You passed a few more blocks and a freshly-built school, its brick still bright in the midday sun. Several children played out in the yard, some human and others monsters. It was fifty/fifty give or take, and something about that made you smile.

The town already felt so familiar.

Papyrus tapped your shoulder as he stopped in front of a large superstore, “MTT” branded along the windows and overhang in brush script.

You found the inside was lavish when the two of you stepped past the automated doors, filled to the brim with numerous aisles of clothing and food you  _ think _ you'd never seen before.

Whatever “Nice Cream” was, you thought you may like to try it one day. But most certainly not the “Steak in the Shape of Mettaton”...

Whatever that meant.

Maybe they meant Megaton. Metatron?

That still made no sense.

Shaking your head, you grabbed a cart and pushed it alongside Papyrus, who eagerly scanned his list of foodstuffs. His beady eyes turned toward you, moving the cart in front of himself as you two stood next to a display of…

MTT Brand Perfume, Cologne, and Transmission Fluid. “Get those engines revving with my Mettaton™ Branded Fragrance, Darling.”

You didn't  _ want _ to know how that worked.

You held back a physical cringe from reaching your face, and followed Papyrus into the aisle.

Taking a look over his arm, you spotted “Chisps” and “Cinnabunnies” written rather sloppily--Sans, probably--and scanned some of the shelves as Papyrus looked at several himself.

Down the aisle a way, you spotted a clear bag with a blue bunny printed on it, dark, slightly toasted bread rolls inside. They looked absolutely delicious, even packaged away, their cinnamon glaze glistening.

You took a bag and plopped it into the cart next to whatever Papyrus had placed (a loaf of wheat bread and potato rolls), and tried to take another look at his list.

“OH! KITTEN.” He pulled his list close, away from your line of sight, “WHY DON'T YOU GO FIND SOME THINGS YOU MIGHT NEED? HUMAN… THINGS?” The list was waved around as he placed a hand to his chest, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL HANDLE THIS.”

His scarf fell away from his mouth a bit, and he was quick to move it back into place, “REALLY, THOUGH. GET WHAT YOU NEED.”

He shooed you away with his hands, pushing you along the aisle until you moved by yourself.

Papyrus was right. He could handle all that--he and Sans made that list themselves. And you were needing a toothbrush and paste. And maybe shampoo. Feminine products?

That was something you dreaded talking about to a couple of skeletons.

_ Oh, yes, human, why, pray tell, are you bleeding so profusely? Oh. Oh, you're not dying? Please elucidate. _

You shook your head. Time and a place.

As you wandered through the aisles, you gathered some smallclothes (stars forbid you wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. At least Papyrus hadn't changed  _ that _ part when he'd switched your clothes out.) A toothbrush and toothpaste came next, followed by a generic, cheap shampoo--everything you carried was cheap, cheap, cheap.

You wouldn't dare return to Papyrus with an arm's worth of goods that were expensive. They were already housing you for the time being, feeding you, making sure you were taken care of well enough. You didn't want to insult them.

As you entered the next aisle, you made eye contact with a large wolf monster, his fur thick as he sniffed near the door to a freezer. He was currently eyeing the Mettaton-Shaped Steaks™ inside.

Whoever this Mettaton was, they certainly owned a lot. Most of the food in the freezer had their name on it, and the picture of what looked to be a calculator, others adorned with a pink or perhaps magenta-clad--

Man? They looked metallic. Robot?

The wolf snorted quietly when you looked away respectfully, holding your small bundle of items as you stared into the glass panes.

You wondered… Were people out there looking for you? Did you have a home to return to, and if so, where? Surely, if you couldn't remember anything of the last year or so, you must have stayed somewhere nearby, right? You didn't want to think that you'd traveled across the country only to lose yourself.

Maybe you could convince Papyrus to take you to the Police Station? Had someone filed a missing persons report, you might be in it. Figure out just where you'd come from, and  _ if _ anyone was looking for you.

It was a good logical step, one that would free your burden on the two monsters that currently helped you. Not that you were ungrateful, of course.

But you hardly wanted to wear out your welcome.

You would still visit Papyrus even if you found out where you'd come from. You'd already promised that much, and it would upset you to have lied to him.

He was far too sweet to mistreat.

Staring at your reflection in the glass, hardly seeing the assortment of frozen dinners in front of you, you didn't notice the small monster enter down at the end of the aisle, near the wolf.

\--

Blue's bandana bounced as he walked, his arms wound about a long bread roll. He glanced at the collection of jams and jellies lining the shelves across from the freezer, his eyes moving toward the end of the aisle.

Nothing was interesting enough to grab, though he saw some of your favorite spreads you used for breakfast.

He couldn't bring himself to take one, even though he enjoyed the flavor himself.

Papy was somewhere else in the store, probably sneakily buying cigarettes despite Blue's insistence to stop… he may not have lungs, but that didn't mean it was a good habit.

It stained his bones. Made his clothes stink. And it wasn't a good thing to do around humans--

Blue froze.

His eyes locked on you at the end of the aisle, as you seemed to be staring blankly into the freezer. Squeezing the bread to his chest, he blinked his sockets rapidly, his mouth falling open.

It couldn't have been that simple. He must not have slept well enough last night, and was just seeing things.

That was it.

Blue shook his head almost violently and shut his eyes, the bread pressed against his cheek.

One.

Two.

Three.

Opening his eyes again, you were still there, but you were now staring down at the collection of items in your arms. You didn't seem hurt, maybe a bit tired, but your face was fallen.

Blue didn't understand.

“Y/n?” He started quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The wolf next to him moved his ears at the noise, but didn't respond. Perhaps he'd just been too quiet. You didn't hear him, was all.

When you didn't respond either, Blue took a step forward. “Y/N?” He tried louder, his feet gliding him along the aisle unconsciously.

Your face lifted and made brief eye contact with him, your mouth slightly opened.

It was you. Y/N! You were here!

He wasn't seeing things!

“Y/N!” Blue shouted at his normal volume, startling both you and the wolf.

He raced down the aisle, casting his bread aside as he made his way toward you. Tightly, he wrapped his arms around your midsection, his cheek pressed against your shoulder. The items you held kept him from sitting flush against you, and he pulled back.

His hands clasped at your arms, your eyes wide with surprise when he shook you lightly.

“Y/N, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” He demanded, small, blue tears forming at the corners of his sockets. He was so close to crying, his shoulders shaking with joy.

He found you! You were right here! Safe!

The others would be so happy! You weren't hurt! You hadn't been taken (he hoped)! And you could come home with him!

But why didn't you respond when he called your name? Why didn't you smile at him like he did you?

Why… Why were you trying to pull away from him?

\--

You started when the exuberant skeleton grabbed at you, his eye lights shaped into bright, glowing stars.

You held back a yelp when he hugged you involuntarily, painfully pressing your things against your chest. He was quick to pull away, though.

He held onto your arms tightly, his gloves pinching at you as he pulled you toward him.

What?

Who?

At first, you thought it was Sans, but realised the skeleton didn't have the large hole at the top of his head, or the bright red eye that always stared. No, this one had bone smooth like porcelain save a small, healed crack that ran up the side of his cranium, his eyes a startling blue, shaped like soft stars.

You didn't know what was happening. Did you know him before you'd forgotten?

And that name? Was Y/N your name?

You didn't know. It didn't strike a chord at all.

In a store full of monsters, in a world with people who wanted nothing more than to hurt one another, you couldn't know for sure. It could have been an elaborate trick to make it seem like to everyone else that he knew you, only to drag you away with no one the wiser.

Or, you could have legitimately known the smaller skeleton at one point, and now you'd returned to him. Did you know him from before you'd forgotten?

You… you didn't know what to do.

Maybe if you got to Papyrus, he could help sort things out. Was that wrong? To assume all skeletons knew each other? That was wrong, wasn't it.

You tried to pull out of his hold, his hands gripping tighter at your arms. He was hurting you now.

A wince crossed your face as you hissed from his vice-like grip, and the wolf down the way took notice. His nostrils flared at the situation and your discomfort, the hair on his neck standing.

“Y/N, WHAT'S WRONG?” The skeleton questioned, his smile falling as he searched your face. His expression was worried, tears in his sockets that threatened to spill over.

“ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU HURT? WHY AREN'T YOU SAYING ANYTHING?” His smile came back, forced but there--anything to fight back the tears, “C'MON! PAPY WILL BE SO HAPPY! AND RED! AND--”

He tried pulling you with him, but you kept your feet firm on the floor. You didn't know how to respond, you didn't know what to do at all. Your body froze, your arms clutching at the bundle you held to your chest

You were frozen.

His voice sounded so familiar. Those names, even, but you couldn't place it. A sharp pain sat between your ribs, a thrum you couldn't place. It spread all over, your body almost electrified.

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, tight and painful, like a frightened bird in your ribs. No, no, you couldn't let him just drag you away like that--even if you knew him, maybe.

Suddenly, the hold on your arms vanished, the wolf from down the way now holding the skeleton aloft by the back of his shirt.

“He botherin’ you, lady?” The wolf questioned quietly, a low timbre of a voice, nearly a growl.

The skeleton squirmed at being held high off the floor, his feet kicking and arms swinging. “I'M NOT BOTHERING HER! Y/N LIVES WITH ME! SHE'S BEEN MISSING!”

The wolf trained his dark eyes on you, his snout curling. The smaller monster couldn't break free of his hold, no matter how hard he squirmed.

The wolf waited for a response to the skeleton's accusations.

What were you supposed to say?

_ Oh, yeah, I live with this skeleton. He's not  _ **_my_ ** _ skeleton, exactly. I already have two of those. He's an auxiliary skeleton. We like to play pretend that we don't know each other in public to freak people out. _

You looked between them, from the wolf to the small monster, before you shook your head in denial. The wolf made a snort of affirmation and kept the skeleton up high, away from you.

Stepping back slowly, you turned on your heel and made it quickly from the aisle.

Disappearing.

\--

Blue cried out, his legs kicking wildly as the wolf refused to let him go. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his fingers clawed at the thick fur of the wolf's arm.

“NO, LET ME GO! Y/N!” Blue didn't understand why you'd run away. Why was your soul scared of him all of a sudden? Why weren't you helping?

“Drop it, buddy. Ain't do us any good if you go an’ harass humans like that.” The wolf kept him in place until he knew you were gone, his nostrils flaring at the skeleton's attempts to break free. “If she's an old flame, you gotta learn to let--”

“I KNOW HER! Y/N LIVES WITH US! I HAVE TO BRING HER BACK!” Blue tried slipping from shirt to chase after you, but the wolf held him even tighter. His tears grew thicker, his voice growing hoarse as he called after you again.

“Didn't  _ look _ like she knew you. Not from here. An’ even if she did, that ain't how you do things. Drop it, bud.” The wolf made his way to the end of the aisle, Blue still held high in the air, and headed toward the front of the store.

“ _ YOU _ DROP IT!” With a growl of his own, Blue landed a kick on the wolf's chest, only earning himself a low growl. “Y/N! PAPY!”

\--

Down the front wall of the store, standing at a counter to collect a few boxes of cigarettes, Stretch heard a commotion from the checkout lanes. He didn't pay much mind to it at first, up until a loud yell caught his attention.

Whipping his head at the familiar voice, he dropped the unpaid cigarettes on the counter, one falling to the floor, before he moved quickly toward the main doors, abandoning his cart.

Sans?

What was happening?

Stretch saw a wolf monster place his grocery basket on one of the checkout counters as everyone in line stared at the scene, walking out the front with Blue in hand.

“hey! what're you doing‽” Stretch caught up with the wolf as he placed Blue just beyond the rubber mat outside the awning, the small skeleton falling to his knees as he cried.

The wolf crossed his arm with a huff, his bushy tail flicking in an irritated manner, “Boy of yours?” He addressed Stretch, “Was causin’ a scene with a human.”

Stretch knelt next to Blue, his hand on the smaller skeleton's back. His eyes darted from the curb to the shaking shoulders of his brother--a human? Blue wouldn't bother anyone like that.

Sure, he was loud, rambunctious even, but never to the point that someone stepped in.

Stretch gazed up at the wolf who stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his sockets narrowed. “what human? where?”

His mind flashed back to the Underground, glimpses of a human, a blue bandana coated in dust.

Stretch shook the thought away.

“Human girl. She didn't know him from what I could tell.” The wolf replied plainly, “He's gonna get us in trouble if he goes harassing humans like that. Things are bad enough as it is.” Before he turned and headed back inside, he flicked his tail again, “Leave 'em be, and they'll let us be. Easy.”

He didn't bother to say more.

His cold groceries were going to go bad if he didn't finish soon.

“Y/n.” Blue hiccuped, his gloved hand rubbing away a line of tears from his cheek. He was so quiet as he spoke, “Y/n was in there. She acted--acted like she didn't know me, Papy!”

Stretch froze.

When he tried to explain to Blue that he'd seen you on the way into town, he'd balked. “WHY WOULD SHE BE ON THE ROAD, PAPY? DID YOU GET DOG TREATS FROM MUTT AGAIN?”

But maybe he  _ had _ seen you on the road.

Maybe you  _ had _ made your way into town. Distanced yourself from them like he'd wanted originally.

Maybe you  _ hadn't _ expected to see Blue.

But you would never treat him like that, never act like you didn't know him. And despite the vitriol Stretch held against you days ago, he knew you wouldn't cast Blue away like that.

You and Blue were close, probably even closer than he'd been with you himself. You'd talked, played games together, shared secrets, cooked with one another, even shared your bed from time to time like a sleepover.

You wouldn't have been like this to Blue.

There was no way.

What was happening?

\--

Papyrus saw you run into the aisle, barreling straight toward him. He could hardly react as you held to his sweater tightly, hiding yourself behind him.

He clicked his teeth from under the guise of his scarf and swiveled so he could get a good look at you, worried at your obvious distress.

“KITTEN, WHAT'S WRONG?” He questioned gently, taking the items from your arms without hesitation. He placed them in his cart before kneeling down to look at you, your face flushed and heart beating heavily.

Your soul was in distress.

Papyrus placed his hands on your shoulders and held you firmly in place, his small eye sockets trained on you intently. “PERHAPS YOU SHOULD GO OUTSIDE AND WAIT? THE SUN MIGHT--”

You shook your head rapidly, your hands on his wrists to steady yourself further. No, that smaller skeleton could be out there, if the way the wolf was treating him was any indication. You didn't want another confrontation, or the potential of seeing the monster again.

Preferring to stay near Papyrus, you shook your head once more, your heart trying its best to slow down to something a bit more normal.

“ARE YOU SURE?” His pinprick eye lights looked at the cart behind you. He was nearly done gathering what they needed for at least a week or two--it would bother him if you'd decided to stand outside until he was done.

He may not have known what happened to cause you to hide behind him, but he didn't like it a bit. Your soul was alarmed, frightened as you tried your best to cover it up.

You couldn't secret it away from Papyrus.

Nodding, you let his arms fall, letting him stand up fully. He towered over you as normal, but this time it felt more protective, less threatening compared to the diminutive skeleton that had been tugging at you minutes before.

“WE'RE ALMOST DONE HERE. WILL YOU BE ALRIGHT A LITTLE WHILE LONGER?”

\--

The rest of the trip was uneventful.

Hiding yourself behind Papyrus, away from any prying eyes, you followed him like a shadow.

There didn't seem to be anyone staring at you, or trying to confront you over what happened, but your anxiety was heightened. It was through the roof at the idea that the smaller skeleton might try to come back. And bring whoever he was trying to lead you toward with him.

You really hoped he wasn't waiting outside.

You'd seen one other skeleton in the store, already at the register, but they'd been taller. They wore orange, too. Not blue like the other one had.

They were alone, too, taking with them only a few bags of groceries before they walked out the door quickly.

It was hard to tell from where you were at, and from hiding behind Papyrus, but they looked… Sad? Irritated? Tired? It was hard to make out.

It had been at least a half hour by then, and the other skeleton had been  **so loud** that it wouldn't have been hard to miss him.

Your arms still tingled a bit where he'd grabbed you.

Something about the way he spoke, the name he'd called you, those little star-shaped eyelights of his struck a chord. Though, you couldn't place where.

The day had been filled with little moments like that: small, fleeting glimpses into what you think you may have remembered. The banners, the man made of fire, the skeleton who looked so close to Sans.

But your mind didn't want to connect the dots.

A small bout of pain coursed through the center of your chest again, and your hand moved to rub at your sternum. That had started to hurt as well, after seeing the other monster.

What did it mean?

As you rounded the edge of the store, you noticed there was a small cafe seated in a cutout in the wall. It was quaint, but still carried with it images of that strange calculator/robot person.

There was a porch just outside a double set of doors, several monsters and humans seen sitting in the sun and at umbrella-covered tables.

You had an idea.

Perhaps, when Papyrus went to pay for things, you could simply slip out that way. You wouldn't have to go through the front at all. Avoid running into that monster again, if you could help it.

If he was still here, of course.

But you didn't want to press your luck.

Papyrus scanned his list and picked up a few more things, asking you every so often if it was something you would eat. He was obviously trying to get your mind off whatever happened, and also genuinely wondering if you liked the food he'd chosen.

You supposed he was being a good host. Obviously, he was interested in cooking, especially for Sans. And now with you there, he had a chance to try a few new things.

Guinea pig or no, you would indulge him.

\--

Papyrus watched you head toward the cafe as he stood next in line. He wrung his bags in his hands almost nervously, if only because he didn't know what had gotten you so riled up.

Your soul had been frightened, confused even, though you hadn't talked at all. He was at a loss, but he couldn't push you to say anything.

Had someone bothered you? Were you pulled into a confrontation? Someone wouldn't try to fight you in a store, would they?

Perhaps he could get something out of you on the walk back up the mountain?

Scanning the cart to ensure he'd gotten everything he and Sans wrote down, he saw the small bundle of items he'd taken from you.

Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Shampoo that smelt of some kind of flower. A small bottle of mouthwash.

Panties.

Papyrus sat still for a moment, before he shifted the bag of bread over those with a slightly flushed face. If he had a throat to clear, he would have done so.

There had been a cute pair in there. They had little--he shook his head. He was a gentleman! A gentlemanly skeleton with manners! A lady's business was her own, and you trusted him!

Even if he had kind of seen you when he first brought you to the house, changed you out of your dirtied clothes, and made a bed for you.

Papyrus stared down at his cart and pondered.

He remembered he was the one who washed clothes in the house. He'd have seen them eventually.

That didn't help the blush on his face.

\--

Stepping out into the early afternoon sun felt wonderful. The wind was still crisp, but not so chilly that people stayed inside. No, monsters and humans alike mingled on the porch with their coffees and teas, talking quietly with one another.

You sat at an unoccupied table and waited, leaning on the metal fencing that surrounded the porch as you stared out into the street.

There was a bakery across the way, decorated with spiders and cobwebs, the windows adorned with an assortment of lush, burgundy curtains.

It was cute.

A small, white dog walked down the sidewalk by its lonesome. No collar. No leash. Nothing. Though the monsters who also walked down the sidewalk gave it a wide berth, almost afraid or annoyed by its presence.

It came to a stop near the cafe, the fence separating the two of you as it stared in your direction. Jittering a bit, it gave one, loud yip before it phased through the concrete in front your very eyes.

You…

You honestly didn't know what to think of that.

Just.

Just into the ground it went.

Happy as it pleased.

_ Into the ground. _

Shaking your head, you enjoyed the last few minutes you had to sit before the long trek back up the mountain, this time with groceries. You weren't sure if you worked out or were active before you'd forgotten, but you were about to find out.

Looking down the main road, you gazed at the slope of the mountain in the distance. From there, you could see a few clearings where houses would be, though they were separated by a great deal of land. The mountain curved around the town, towering in the distance, the tip top of its peaks covered in a thin mist of clouds.

You wondered what it would look like to stargaze from up there, without the light pollution of a city.

Maybe that was something you and Papyrus could do tonight? Even take Sans with you--try to bond a little more with him.

That sounded like fun.

Just the three of you. The mountain. And the stars.

 

\--

 

**NEXT CHAPTER: I SPY**

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Chapters (you can decide if they're canon or not):  
> [archiveofourown.org/collections/DearHeartsandGentlePeople]


	7. I Spy

\--

 

**CHAPTER 7: I SPY**

 

\--

 

Blue hadn't left his room the rest of the evening.

The store temporarily banned him from returning for “having caused distress to another guest”, even though said guest couldn't be found for comment. Apparently, Ice Wolf's testimony was enough. That, and Blue's reaction to what happened.

A hysterical monster crying in front of a superstore didn't sit well with a lot of folk, apparently.

Stretch sat on the couch in the living room, the high lofted ceiling a bit of a blur as he took a long drag on his cigarette. He didn't really care if he smoked in the house or not at that moment.

The television was on, but he hardly watched it. Just background noise to fill the silence as another Papyrus could be heard cooking something in the kitchen. If it was Vanilla's brother, chances were it was spaghetti again. If it was Edge? Well, vinegar lasagna was on the menu that night.

Guess he'd be skipping dinner.

He didn't want to admit it then, but Stretch missed when you cooked. You weren't the greatest, but it was edible, good even. At least you read the instructions, and didn't try to burn the house down.

You even knew how much honey he liked in his tea. What kind of syrup Blue liked on his pancakes. You made sure he didn't laze around all day like he'd been doing recently, or let his brother run around until he passed out.

He remembered you were supposed to teach Blue how to make pumpkin bread before you'd up and disappeared.

Stretch shut his eyes and let the smoke escape from between his teeth, pulling his hood up to hide away.

He didn't get it. First, he'd seen you on their way into town--he _knew_ he hadn't hallucinated that. Then his brother sees you, actually _touches_ you, and you pretend like you didn't know him.

The car ride back had been… awkward, to say the least.

Blue hadn't said a word during the whole ride, and only curled in on himself in his seat, facing away from Stretch.

He was obviously devastated. You'd never treated him like that, even when he went a little overboard sometimes. Even when he got loud. Or maybe too touchy.

You'd always try to humor him.

And now more than ever, Blue was paying for what Stretch had done.

He let his head flop onto the back of the couch, and spent the last bit of his cigarette.

He'd have to tell Vanilla and the others. Red, especially. There was something going on.

But that meant admitting to what he'd done to you. What caused you to leave, what may have caused you to act that way. Stretch hoped he hadn't damaged your soul when he--

He would tell the others he'd seen you. And Blue had, too.

Red might be happy.

 

\--

 

Red wasn't happy.

He sat at the kitchen island, watching his brother concoct some devious form of lasagna.

Oops, there went the whole vinegar bottle. Tee hee. Glass and all. Into the sauce. Edge didn't even break stride.

You know, because fuck making it edible, Red thought bitterly. He wasn't eating that shit.

He drummed his fingers against the counter as he mindlessly scrolled through Undernet. This timeline's Undyne posted about her most recent date with Alphys, a full caps “HOI”, a selfie from the lake--Onionsan. Oh, and a picture of the Queen--the one _without_ the crazy eyes he'd known.

Only an hour or two remained before nightfall, and then he would go out, back to the Crooked Brothers’ house. Red knew what he smelled when he was in Crooks’ room. He'd never mistake your scent for anything else.

He'd spent enough time around you to recognize it, and he wasn't afraid to say it.

Red unconsciously spun one of the many rings he wore, his bones clicking against the showy metal. He wondered if maybe he should bring his own brother along with him. If only for support.

Say Axe and Crooks did have you, though. Edge would kick their door down, and all hell would break loose. You could get hurt in whatever transpired after that, especially with one of the twisted skeletons in the scuffle.

Why would they want to keep you, anyway? To eat, Red surmised quickly, not even bothering to think further on it. They'd want to eat you, and that's it. Not a shred of humanity in them.

He shook his head. Shred of _human_ ity in them.

That joke made him slightly queasy.

No, tonight, he'd go by himself. Just reconnaissance. Even if he didn't see you, he'd try again tomorrow, the next night, and the next if it meant even catching a glimpse. And if he _did_ see you?

He'd move on from there.

Edge all but threw his masterpiece into the oven and spun to face him. The larger skeleton always had a glower on his long skull, his pointed teeth curved into a constant frown. Red looked away and drummed his fingers.

His brother had simply scoffed when he saw Blue enter the house earlier, sockets full of tears as he ran up the stairs like a baby bones.

He'd made a beeline for his room, Stretch just standing in the doorway.

Honey boy wasn't one to make his bro act out like that. Something had to have happened.

Aside from the shitty assortment of groceries they'd picked up, that is. He'd planned to grab some Grillby's later anyway. Get a drink.

Anything other than the slop his bro was currently burning in the oven.

 

\--

 

The long trek back up the mountain tired you out. Helping as best you could to carry groceries, Papyrus eventually took them all with ease and continued without slowing down in the slightest.

The bags he used were insulated, so there wasn't a fear of taking slightly longer to get to the cabin, and you were thankful for that. He even offered to carry you on his back, but you declined. You wouldn't dare put more stress on him like that. Not with the way he stood, his back hunched.

By the time you got home, the backs of your legs were burning with strain, muscles tingling like you'd just ran a marathon. Papyrus proudly strode through the yard, across the paving stones they'd put down, and called for his brother loudly.

The mountain forest was quiet in the evening, the chickens out behind the house all gathered in their coop for the night. It was too dangerous for them to stay out after dark. Papyrus made note that he would secure them once you all finished dinner.

Sans had been waiting by the door when you both arrived, only to throw it open as you drew closer, his constant grin tight. He seemed to be on edge about something, but kept it under wraps.

Bothering Papyrus with whatever was annoying him wasn't on the agenda.

The three of you put away groceries in record time, Papyrus leaving out several ingredients to make the potato soup he'd been so adamant about. A large pot sat on the stove, larger than any one you'd seen before. So large, in fact, it could probably fit a small child.

You'd seen him shovel food back like it was nothing, but a pot nearly the size of the stove itself seemed like overkill.

How a skeleton could be so excited about soup escaped you.

The bacon smelled lovely, though.

Sans propped himself against the wall as Papyrus went about skinning potatoes (two to three bags worth), you at his side stirring the mixture he already had going in the pot. The base aroma was delicious, thick with spices, only thickened by the large heaps of potatoes.

Papyrus had pulled an odd, glass bottle from the pantry and poured some of the contents inside the pot, swirling it into the mixture. You looked down inside from atop your stool and saw a faint hint of… it was glowing, whatever it was.

“LIQUID MAGIC.” He clarified, handing you back the large, metal spoon, “PERFECTLY SAFE FOR HUMANS.” You supposed that cleared up the confusion of skeletons eating normal food--it was just magic-infused.

“SEVERAL HUMAN… GUESTS,” the pause caught you off guard, but you didn’t say anything, “HAVE HAD IT! SO NO WORRIES!” Sans cleared his throat behind you, though you didn’t look back to see the anxious expression on his face.

Had the spaghetti, breakfast, and anything else you'd eaten there also been changed with magic? It hadn't tasted any different.

 

\--

 

Sans’ red eye scanned you both, noting the happy disposition his brother had while looking at you, and your relaxed smile in return. You were actually smiling at his brother--not quivering with fear, revulsion, or outrage.

Just smiling. One that met your eyes, too.

And you hadn't even said a single word to Papyrus--Sans honestly didn't know what to think about that. His brother did all the talking, and yet there was an understanding between you two already.

Though he supposed it must have been from Papyrus healing you, back when they'd first found you unconscious in the forest. Strung up in one of their traps, you were already a mess, your HP low and soul a dim, faded colour. You'd been hurt before you ever fell in the net.

Papyrus had been the first to notice the damage that'd been dealt to the small, barely fluttering “heart” that was your soul. Quick to heal what he could (if only to prevent a human from dying on the property and prompting an investigation, potentially), he kindled your soul to a slightly better color.

It was only then that they felt comfortable bringing you back to their cabin, sure that you weren't going to dust, or rather die, on the way.

From there, Sans mostly watched his brother take care of you for the day or so that you were unconscious, going so far as to give up his bed, change your clothes, and monitor you through the night.

Sans’ ability to CHECK had been lacking since his little… Accident. He rubbed his head then, his cracked socket aching somewhat, and watched as Papyrus slid the next pile of potatoes into the pot. The milk inside splashed up a bit, just barely missing you.

Sans was a little disappointed.

Seeing what your LV and EXP were before his brother all but took out your soul proved impossible when they'd found you, but he was only slightly relieved when he saw you sat at a LV of 1 with no execution points to speak of--a human of moderate decency, they hoped.

Sans hadn’t expected to see your soul bared to them then, but the impact of it had been tainted by the lingering damage that had been dealt before they found you. Initially, your soul had a gaping hole in its center, the ring surrounding it stained a bright orange that contrasted against the dull colour of the rest of the small heart.

The intention didn’t look like it was to kill—your HP would have been zero, otherwise—but whoever had done that kind of damage hadn’t been playing around. Papyrus had managed to heal most of the damage, turning the hole into a small divot before stopping. It tired him out, expending so much magic at the time, but given their access to food on the surface, it had been a lifesaver. Literally.

Making sure your HP and soul were stable, Papyrus already had a closer connection to you before you'd even woken up. It was difficult to explain in human terms, but his bro knew without a doubt you'd do them no harm when you were finally awake.

They hadn't been wrong.

And now you were bonding well with his brother, and Sans couldn’t help but smile. It was a little crooked, yet genuine. If Papyrus was happy, then so was he.

 

\--

 

The soup was left to cook for a bit as the three of you sat in the living room. On the old tube television was… oh, it was the robotic person you’d seen on the foodstuffs in the store earlier. Mettaton, you think it was.

It was a rerun judging by the whir of the VHS player underneath the television, but Papyrus looked enraptured by it. You didn’t know anything about this Mettaton, uh, man, but he was charming and charismatic.

And his legs were fantastic.

Sans, however, didn’t look interested in the slightest. He sat bored on the couch, his cheek propped against his fist next to Papyrus. You sat on the other end of the couch, the large skeleton separating you two. Sans’ eyes drooped as though he was about to fall asleep, the red glow of his one working eye dark.

You took a moment to glance around the living room, as you hadn’t had much of a chance, and spotted a tripod positioned in the corner. It was what was on the tripod that interested you, though.

Bouncing from the couch, you trotted over to the telescope in the corner and inspected it. Papyrus took notice and tore his eyes from the TV, his voice only slightly quieter than normal, “OH, THAT’S SANS’ TELESCOPE! HE WAS QUITE THE ASTRONAUT UNDERGROUND.”

Something about that wording didn’t sound right.

“astronomer, bro. I liked astronomy.” Sans’ eye opened fully to watch you, his gaze trained on your hand that sat just on the body of the telescope. “wasn’t much to look at down there. didn’t really have the time after,” he stopped himself short, “doesn’t matter. weren’t any stars down there. just crystals.”

Your eyes searched Sans for a moment, wanting him to elaborate. When he didn’t, however, you tapped your fingers gently against the telescope.

“KITTEN, DID YOU WANT TO LOOK AT THE STARS?” Papyrus questioned genuinely, his crooked teeth curved into a wide smile. He turned to stare at Sans, who still sat with his fist against his cheek, “AFTER DINNER,YOU SHOULD TAKE HER TO SEE!” He narrowed his eye sockets at the smaller skeleton, “GET OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR A BIT.”

That one sounded a bit like scolding, though you couldn’t say for certain.

But Sans sighed and sat straight, his hands now on his knees. “alright, bro. you wanna see stars, kitten?” You nodded enthusiastically in return, earning yourself a small chuckle, “fine. I know a good spot.”

 

—

 

Dinner was fantastic, as you knew it would be. And there was plenty left over from the large pot he’d made that Papyrus filled several tubs of Tupperware to place in the fridge. He told you not to worry if you got hungry—they had plenty to go around for some time.

Before you went to leave, however, Papyrus made sure to give you one of his thick sweaters, forgoing your coat. It was to be chilly that night, perhaps cold enough that you might shiver a bit if out too long. But the sweater was plush and warm, and you all but left your coat laid across Papyrus’ bed for when you came back.

He ushered you and Sans out the door, though, insisting that he would clean up the kitchen. He was dead set on getting his brother out of the house, nearly throwing the telescope out the front door onto the lawn.

Thankfully, Sans caught it with surprising ease, moving so fast that you were sure you’d imagined it. But you didn’t have much time to ponder as he began to walk away from the house, ignoring the path entirely. You could make out just the back of his skull in the dark, his hoodie blending into the shadows as he walked leisurely away.

Holding tight to the thick quilt you held, you waved back to Papyrus as you went.

Before long, you disappeared into the dark of the woods.

 

—

 

Red cursed as he tripped on a rather large branch that had fallen in the path. You’d think for a monster who’d spent most of his life Underground, in a cave, surrounded by darkness, he’d be able to see decently at night.

Nope.

Misconception.

Complete bullshit.

Swatting away the leaves from his shorts, he situated his coat back on his shoulders and pressed on toward Axe and Crooks’ home. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, one coiled around his phone. His shoulders hunched forward while he walked, bouncing with his rather long strides.

He glanced at the time on the lock screen of his phone, his red eye lights struggling to break away from the picture he had of you and him as the background. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, his head just under your chin, the “Kitten” bracelet he’d gotten you for Gyftmas glinting.

You were both flipping the camera off.

It was his idea.

Red didn’t know what he’d do if this all turned to shit. If you were already gone, if the two crooked freaks in the woods had eaten you.

He wasn’t sure if he’d dust, but it would be a tough call. He’d go down swinging if he had to. Don't misunderstand: he knew you weren't his girl, and his alone, but that hardly meant he didn't care. It wasn't something he wanted to think about now that they were on the surface.

It wasn't kill or be killed anymore.

Sighing, he reached the edge of the forest and peered into the clearing where the small cabin sat. The grass outside was only slightly illuminated by the lights within, one from the kitchen, and another in the living room. He looked over at the chicken coop not far from the house and cringed—he wasn’t a fan of chickens.

They were loud, messy, and lived in their own refuse in a small room.

Red struggled to think he didn’t relate, but… was a big cock joke out of the question?

Probably.

He waited for a moment before he strode silently toward the house, his feet barely crunching in the grass. Coming up to the back, he stood on his toes and peered through the kitchen window just behind the sink.

Slinking down immediately, he was nearly spotted by Crooks, who only looked for a fraction of a second while he was washing a large pot.

Shit, that was close.

But if Crooks was in the kitchen, then Red could simply--

He shortcut his way into the house, blipping inside the hallway. The house was cool, the fireplace in the living room unlit. He wasn't even sure they had central heating.

The air was a little stale. So probably unlikely..

Not that it mattered. Cold didn't bother skeleton monsters too much to begin with.

Humans, on the other hand.

Red slowly opened Axe's door and peered inside again for safe measure, only slightly pleased when he found it empty. He grinned at the sight of the still destroyed trash tornado, taking pride in having disrupted it earlier.

He would have killed to see Axe's shit-eating grin disappear.

Turning to Crooks’ room, he peered down the hall and listened to make sure the large monster was still cleaning. The sounds of plates moving about in the sink continued, backed by a quiet noise--humming.

Reassured, Red made his way inside and looked about. Everything appeared the same, save a large pile of unfolded clothes on the bed. Most of it looked to be socks and a few sweaters.

Wait. Were those panties? Not that Red would judge, but he'd hardly expected it. Though, he surmised they may have been yours if the smell in the room was anything to go by.

Your scent was stronger than before, and he knew why within a second.

On the bed sat your coat. He recognised it as your favorite, considering how often you wore it. Nearly jumping on the bed, he stopped himself and calmly walked over.

The fabric was soft under his fingers and freshly washed. Raising it to his face, he breathed deep. Even though laundered, your scent remained dominant.

Why would they wash your coat if they'd eaten you? Or undergarments? That thought made Red feel only slightly better.

But the idea that Crooks kept the coat around as a souvenir did not. With one long sniff, he placed it back on the bed--nah, you'd been there recently. Your scent was stronger than ever.

Where were you?

If you weren't with Crooks and your coat was there… where was Axe? Were you with _him_?

Red scowled, and remembered when Axe had thrown a freshly sharpened hatchet his way, back when they lived under one roof. Oopsie, _what an accident_. Yeah, because throwing a hatchet toward the house and not away was a mistake.

Cheeky.

That was only **one** of the reasons they didn't all live together anymore.

Then there were the arguments.

Axe and Vanilla butted heads more often than not to the point where they'd disappear in the woods for a while. Wasn't hard to miss when a tree fell, and they'd come back home looking worse for wear.

Another reason was the instigations. Axe would rile up Blue, get under his bones until Stretch would step up to plate. That only seemed to amuse Axe.

The people-eating thing was out of the question, too--there had already been one close call with a hiker, and they couldn't afford to have a mishap like that again.

Despite Crooks saying it wouldn't happen a second time, and he'd keep his brother from acting out, it wasn't enough. Vanilla turned them from the house and to a small, abandoned cabin the next lot over.

It had been empty for as long as Red knew, and even longer according to Vanilla, but it would serve its purpose of separating the group enough that they could cope. Didn't account for Black and Mutt, but that was a whole other story.

This all had happened long before you'd come around, so you never had the chance to meet the Crooked Brothers yourself. Black and Mutt still visited from time to time, and they got along with you well enough.

Mutt sometimes too much for Red's liking.

He was all for letting you do your thing, being open with other monsters. But that didn't mean he had to like some of the others you'd gotten close to--Mutt and Stretch especially.

Something about those two rubbed him the wrong way. They were too suspicious for their own good, too unwilling to admit they did some shit when they were Underground. Mutt, not as much, but Stretch?

Red growled and took another glance around the room. The figure he'd knocked over earlier was back in its place.

Red knocked it over again.

And another for shits and giggles.

And maybe a third.

Despite wanting to take your coat with him, he didn't want to rouse suspicion, and crept back into the hall. He could hear Crooks still cleaning in the kitchen, so he tiptoed his way toward the arch that led inside.

Spying around the corner, he watched the large, hunched-over monster put away a few plates, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows from washing.

Crooks always unnerved him. He was a decent enough monster, he would admit, better than Axe by any stretch of the imagination, but…

Red boiled it down to appearances. The idea that his brother could have ended up like that, his face beaten in, starved to the point of near insanity, his body too disproportionate because of what they had to eat, or lack thereof.

It put him on edge.

Finished, Crooks took the pink rubber gloves he wore off and placed them in the sink, before turning to walk toward the back door.

He stepped outside, probably to check on the chickens Red had seen earlier, and left the kitchen empty.

Stepping onto the linoleum tile, Red sauntered into the kitchen fully. Nothing _looked_ bloody, but Crooks was just as much a neatfreak as Edge, so he didn't put it past him. Throwing open the fridge to make sure there weren't any stray limbs, he was only greeted by several tubs of soup, a few different packaged meats, and other miscellaneous guff.

Red felt slightly better about the situation.

If you weren't in the house, and neither was Axe, then perhaps you… Red didn't want to jump to conclusions. You could have been anywhere at that point. The woods, in town. Hell, you could have left the state, even, for all he knew.

Sighing, Red shut the door shortcut his way back outside. He would try waiting for Axe to return--the bastard rarely left as it was, so he hardly expected him to just up and leave Crooks behind.

The Crooked brothers were nothing if not tight-knit.

Hiding in the treeline, he situated himself against the trunk of an old a tree, sitting between its massive roots. He'd wait for Axe to come back, at least. See if he had you--hopefully walking and not in a bloody sack.

Settled, Red crossed his arms and stared into the clearing.

It was going to be a long night.

 

\--

 

Deep through the woods, Sans led you up a narrow deer path that walked the side of the mountain. The trees began to thin out, the sky becoming more visible the farther you went.

Sans would take a look back at you every so often, but said nothing. You were both content to walk in silence, the forest around you quiet save the sounds of owls and the occasional bat.

A clearing sat ahead, situated on a small plateau that barely sloped. The grass was high, nearly up to your knees as you tread forward, stopping once you stood in the middle.

Sans motioned for you to place the quilt on the ground, the two of you stomping down the grass until it lay nearly flat. Afterwards, he set the telescope up, gingerly positioning it as though it was something precious.

Maybe it was.

As he set it up, however, his one red eye moved to you. The glow of it was sharp in the dark of the night, the contours if his face illuminated by the moon above.

His gaze trained on you hard, though not out of malice. It looked to be more out of curiosity than anything. “paps told me what happened in town.” He started plainly. “somethin’ spooked ya. rattled your bones.” He chuckled quietly.

You sat on the quilt and buried your hands in the long sleeves of Papyrus’ sweater. It was more a someone than a something, but Papyrus hadn't known the specifics of the situation.

You could tell Sans a small skeleton that looked vaguely like him, but with startling blue, star-shaped eyelights grabbed on to you, acted like you'd known him, tried to drag you away to meet someone else.

But you didn't. You didn't have the confidence to speak up about it. You hadn't the urge to talk at all, come to think of it. You got along fine enough so far without uttering a word.

Sans noted your trepidation and didn't push. Instead, he sat on the quilt himself, not far from you, and angled the eyepiece of the telescope toward him.

It seemed like he didn't want to talk about it either.

“how much do you know about monsters?” He questioned cryptically when the silence got heavy.

You shook your head plainly. There wasn't much you remembered about monsters at all: where they came from, how many different types there were, who their leader, if any, was like.

You'd lost most of that to whatever happened to you.

Sans simply nodded and brought the eyepiece down to his working eye, peering through it, “monsters are… _were,_  from the Underground.” He paused, thinking on how to word what he wanted to say, “this mountain, ebbot. it's where they… _we_ came out.”

A single bead of sweat ran down his skull.

He was struggling to get his facts straight, it seemed. You didn't say anything, and let him continue at his own pace.

“like I said earlier. there was nothin’ but gems and crystals down there. we wished on 'em like they were stars.” Sans pushed the telescope down, away from his face, “nothin’ like this.”

Shimmying over, he let you take the telescope and peer through. Several constellations shone brightly from where you sat, undiluted from the light of the town below. You knew there had to be thousands if not millions more, but it would take somewhere far more remote to see them all.

For now, you were happy to spend some time with Sans, watching the stars together.

 

\--

 

Sans watched you raptly as you squint your eye shut, moving the telescope about to other clusters of stars. He'd been the same way when he and Papyrus showed up on the surface. After they'd been ripped from their own timeline, that is.

After the initial shock wore off, and the imminent butting of heads, he'd taken it upon himself to watch the stars with his brother.

Content though they were to see the real sky, to live in a timeline where they didn't need to worry about where their next meal was coming from, Sans was always cautious.

Vanilla wanted nothing more than to send the copies of himself back to where they came, but Sans wasn't about to let some two-bit copy banish him and Papyrus back to that literal hell.

He knew without the help of him and Papyrus, the monsters Underground may very well starve, but he couldn't do a thing. If he was lucky, the timeline shifted in a way that no one even noticed they were gone.

Almost like Gast--

You waved your hand toward him, catching his attention before he could finish his thought. Sans was almost grateful you'd broken him from his reverie--all he needed that day was to be stuck in a thought loop.

That, and his brother ragged on him last time he'd pulled on his eye socket. The bone still wasn't healed fully.

Scooting forward, he took the telescope from you without moving the direction, and peered inside.

Just where you'd pointed it, the makings of what could have been a red star were seen. It twinkled brightly against the blue and black backdrop.

It was probably Mars, if he was looking at it right.

Sans pulled back and looked with his naked eye, the faint red of the faraway planet visible just a ways from the moon.

He glanced over at you, only to find you laid out on the quilt, your eyes trained on the sky. Studying you for a moment, he pretended to fiddle with a knob on the telescope. He could see out of the corner of his eye when you stretched your arms out behind your head.

He didn't miss when your spine popped loudly.

A shiver ran down his own, and he put his socket back up to the telescope to ignore the way his bones heated up. Last thing he wanted was for you to know that… well, those noises did things.

Skeleton things.

Things that would make him use a raunchy pun.

Something involving the word “bone” and letter “r”.

Sans shook his head and laid back himself, content to watch the stars as well. You two could spend a while there, until he knew Paps would probably grow worried.

For a few more hours, you stayed in that spot, Sans showing you the many constellations dotting the sky.

All while a worried, gold-fanged skeleton sat waiting in the woods, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, I also have NSFW chapters for this story!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DearHeartsandGentlePeople
> 
> If you have fanart or anything you'd like to share, catch me on my Twitters:
> 
> @esuercvoltimand  
> @esuercnsfw


	8. IN MEDIA RES

\---

 

CHAPTER 8: IN MEDIA RES

 

\--

 

You remembered.

Your soul.

At least, you think it might have been your soul.

The little cartoonish heart floated in front of you, flitting this way and that nervously. Pulled into a confrontation it didn't want, you had no choice but to relent to your… attacker?

Were they actually attacking you, though?

Small orange pellets flew at you like bullets, occasionally nicking parts of the heart that floated in front of your body as you dodged around trees.

Yes, they were definitely attacking you.

The bullets hadn't hurt you physically, but you felt every scratch against the heart like it had hit you all over at once. Your floating heart bobbed this way and that as you ran to find cover, your true heart beating madly in your chest.

You felt like you'd been running for a while, as though you'd been fleeing for some time. Part of you knew there was no way you could combat your attacker head-on, but you had no choice.

Had they followed you? How had you gotten in a forest?

There were no paths to make out around you.

Only tall, towering trees with limbs that seemed to reach out, to grab, and to claw.

Words left your throat, angry and upset, but you couldn't hear them. Why couldn't you hear them? It was almost as though you were underwater--the sounds muffled like you were drowning.

The person attacking you… you couldn't see their face. You could hardly make them out at all as you dodged between trees. A flash of orange could be seen every so often, but not much more than that.

Your attacker felt betrayed, or at least that's what your soul told you. You couldn't be sure about what, though, as a thick, orange bone splintered part of the tree trunk you were hidden behind.

Were _they_ betrayed? Or were _you_?

Grabbing hold of the small heart and clutching it to your chest, you spied from behind the tree and dared to find your assailant. Only to be greeted by a flurry of orange bullets burying themselves in the trunk.

They--he--said something. It was vitriolic, venomous from the sound of it. You didn't know what you'd done to incur his ire, but whatever it was, he was dead set on paying you back.

But you seemed angry, as well. It was a misunderstanding that escalated to the point of violence. There was a lingering sense of sadness behind it all, like you'd known your attacker personally, had been close to him--only to be fighting because he wasn't listening to you.

He didn't believe a word you said.

Something told you he'd always been the stubborn sort.

Leaping out from behind the tree, your little heart managed to deflect some of the orange bullets, sending them back at him weakly. However, they stopped short, dispelling before they even got close.

Trying to get a good look at him, you couldn't make out any definitive features. Everything was blurred save the bright orange he wore. Your soul responded out of fear, scanning your attacker again:

 

+++++

HP: 1

[He won't forgive you for hurting ++++.]

 

Hurt who? Who had you hurt to make someone attack you like that? Had you hurt _him_?

And HP? Like video game health points? What was happening?

You barely stepped out of the way in time for a bone to miss you, whipping through the air like lightning. It lodged itself in the ground behind you before vanishing.

Catching yourself, you stood ready to say something to your assailant, to tell him just what had happened.

All you needed was a moment to clarify things.

Even though you knew he wouldn't listen anymore.

But suddenly you felt as though you couldn't move, your limbs frozen against your will. Your entire body was heavy, like molten lead had filled your bones and solidified.

You couldn't move as another bone flew straight at the small heart hovering before your chest. It almost moved in slow motion the closer it got, time nearly at a standstill.

Your eyes widened as the pointed tip of the bone pierced the heart and--

 

\--

 

Eyes flying open with a jolt, you found yourself laid out on a quilt thrown over the grass of the mountainside. A thin sheen of dew glistened on the blades around you, your clothes damp from having fallen asleep there.

The air was thick with early morning fog, the wind crisp as it gently blew down from the peak behind you.

Had you fallen asleep there?

You hadn't been attacked?

Right?

There was a heavy weight across your chest, and a warmth you hadn't expected.

Turning your head to your side, you spotted Sans, his sockets closed as he slept close to you. The part of his skull that remained intact lay against the blanket, his face more relaxed than you'd ever seen it.

The fur lining the edge of his hood tickled at your face, his ribs slowly expanding and relaxing.

A skeleton breathing was not the strangest thing you'd seen.

Thrown across one side of your ribs, his arm was heavy, his forearm laid between your breasts, hand resting overtop where your heart lay. He was snuggled into your side, curled around your body

Had he been like that the whole time you slept?

You didn't take him for a snuggler.

And how could a skeleton be so warm? Maybe it was the coat he wore, or just the residual heat from your own body. It was hard to know for sure.

Next to him sat a telescope, the lens uncovered and aimed toward the now cloud-covered sky.

Stargazing. You were stargazing last night.

That was right.

Your head fell back against the ground with a soft thud and you tried your best to relax the harsh thrum of your heart. It still beat heavily from your dream. Or was it a nightmare?

Why had you been attacked? You had strange dreams before, of course, but it was one of those that felt almost too familiar, like deja Vu.

It felt too real, too sharp, even though you couldn't make out the person who attacked you.

It was disconcerting.

Laying there a little while longer, you only decided to move when you realised your back was sore. Sleeping on the ground wasn't good for your bones, much less the actual skeleton asleep next to you.

Your limbs felt heavy, sore from the walk into town and back from the previous day, only compounded after your rest on the cold ground. Nevermind the stuffiness of your nose.

You hoped you wouldn't get sick.

The next issue was getting out of Sans’ hold without waking him. His sleep was peaceful, and you hated to have to wake him up just yet. So, you grabbed at his forearm gently and pulled it up and away from your chest.

Beneath the fabric of his coat, the bones of his arms were thick, thicker than you thought. And sturdy, too. Not frail like a bird's, but seemingly harder than your own.

Lifting his arm mostly away, you ran into a predicament.

Sans' fingers curled into the fabric of your sweater. There was an odd tugging feeling in the center of your ribs that you couldn't explain as you slowly pried his fingers out of your shirt.

When at last you were free, the tugging feeling in your chest had vanished, and you placed Sans’ hand down on the quilt. His fingers scratched and curled against it, his face scrunching somewhat at the loss of warmth.

Your head was foggy when you sat up, and you raised a hand to help quell the dizziness it brought. The dream must have messed with you badly--you heart wouldn't calm down.

Deep breaths. Just take deep breaths, you told yourself. In and out. It was anxiety, the kind that came only after a particularly bad dream. One you knew you couldn't shake so easily.

Sitting there for several minutes, you finally managed to calm down a bit, but the heaviness of your head still remained, the center of your chest aching.

You must have slept odd, is all. Aside from the dream, of course. Yesterday must have worn you out worse than you thought. That had to be it. Even sleeping on the lumpy living room couch would have been better.

Content with sleep, you didn't want to wake Sans. Instead, you stood from the quilt and walked about a bit, letting the grass tickle at your legs.

With the fog covering the mountain, you couldn't make out the town in the valley, too obscured by the mist.

You'd have to see if Papyrus would take you to the police station in town soon--there had to be one, right? Maybe find out just where you'd come from.

Maybe go to that place with the fire-man.

Attempting to take a deep breath, you found your chest too tight to inhale fully. Taking what you could, you held it, keeping the cold mountain air in your lungs until you couldn't any longer.

 

\--

 

Rolling in place on the quilt, Sans began to wake. Groggily, he mumbled, his sharp phalanges digging into the fabric under him.

Nightmares hadn't bothered him that night. They'd left him alone long enough that he was actually able to sleep for longer than a half hour.

It felt weird.

All he knew was that Papyrus would be upset. You two hadn't returned home last night after watching the stars, too sleepy to make the trek back.

And you were partially to blame, though he supposed Paps would let you off with a pat to the head and a mediocre “scolding”. He was never good at confrontation.

During the night, not long after you'd fallen asleep, Sans found himself still awake.

Your soul had been so loud, almost to the point where he was afraid to try and wake you.

If it was anything like his nightmares, that would have been a mistake.

Instead, he'd simply placed his hand where your soul sat, your body warm against his arm, and tried his best to quiet it down. If only so he could sleep.

It worked somewhat, though whatever had been plaguing you hadn't disappeared completely.

Only partially awake, Sans ran his hand over the patchwork quilt to find you, his eyes still closed against the dim morning light. When his fingers brushed over nothing but fabric and bulky stitches, his eyes shot open.

You weren't there.

His one red eye dilated until it filled the whole socket, his bones rattling. He shot up like a bolt of lightning and peered about.

Where was his… their… the human? Where were you?

His eyes darted this way and that until he spotted you standing near the edge of the clearing, adjusting your pants.

He didn't know what that was about. Well, he might have had an idea.

All he knew was that you hadn't run off.

Hadn't been taken during the night.

Not snatched away by some other desperate monster and eaten, or dragged away into the dark.

Papyrus would have been devastated if you disappeared.

 

The irony of that didn't escape Sans.

 

Placing his fingers in his unlit eye socket, he curled them in and tugged sharply. No, that wouldn't do. He couldn't let his brother down like that.

Not when it seemed Papyrus was enjoying himself. Not when he was happy being around you. Not when you smiled that way at the crooked, beaten monster who had nothing but love to offer.

Rolling onto his belly to stand, Sans fixed his coat and shook off the moisture that clung to his skull, running his coat sleeve over his face.

It had been a while since he slept out in the open. It was too dangerous back Underground. One could never know when someone would jump out if the shadows and dust you, and eat what was left.

He watched as you approached him, but you appeared off. Something about the way you carried yourself didn't look right, and that was only the physical.

Sans didn't need to CHECK you to know something was wrong.

 

\--

 

Breakfast was eerily quiet.

Red had been gone all night and still hadn't returned. Stretch drank tea, black, as he'd run out of honey and forgot to grab some from the store the previous day.

Edge ignored everyone as he scrolled through the feed on his phone, his robe tied tighter than usual. It only bothered him slightly that his brother didn't return home. For all he knew, the lout had another bender at Grillby's and was passed out somewhere. (He hadn't bothered to eat the lasagna, so it was now more out of spite than anything.)

Vanilla hadn't come out of his room, probably tuckered after working on a personal project all night. Papyrus had already left for his morning jog.

And Blue stared down at his cold pancakes, the remainder left untouched next to the skillet.

He'd forgone his bandana that day, still dressed in his jammies.

They had little rocket ships printed on them.

But his eyes were tired, the stars that normally sat in his sockets fuzzy circles that looked unfocused. He prodded at the pancake that sat on his plate, the layer of syrup Stretch poured on already absorbed into the fluffy surface.

Stretch sighed and stirred at his tea, completely disinterested with drinking it.

It, too, had gone cold.

From the looks of the sky, it was going to rain later that day. It was going to be gloomy no matter where he went.

Stretch knew he would have to say something to the others. After yesterday, there was no way they wouldn't notice Blue was off. It was only a matter of time before his brother mentioned seeing you out in town.

Regardless of it being cold, Stretch downed his tea and stood. He took Blue's plate after a moment, but the small skeleton didn't react at all.

It was decided.

Later that day, he was going to admit to the house what he'd done. There was no sense in dragging it on any longer, not with how it was affecting Blue.

He hadn't thought of the consequences for what he was doing until after the fact. What did he honestly think was going to happen after he came after you? That you'd just waltz back to the house like nothing happened?

_"Oh, hey, guys who love and care about me! I was only attacked today! But don't worry, my soul is only a lot damaged."_

Overboard was an understatement for what he did.

Initially, he'd hoped Blue's infatuation with you would have subsided, but that wasn't the case. If anything, it was as strong as ever, even after the previous day.

He wouldn't be acting the way he was if he didn't care for you.

Placing the leftover pancakes in the fridge, Stretch ran his hand across the top of his brother's head as he passed, and entered the living room.

Throwing himself on the couch opposite the wall, he angled his head to stare out the wide window. Outside, the clouds were already gathering for the upcoming rainfall.

It was only a matter of time before the bottom fell out.

 

\--

 

Red snorted as he woke, the back of his head hitting the tree he was leaned against. Despite staying there through the night, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of you or Axe. Only Papyrus made an appearance early in the morning, long before the sun came up, to check on his chickens.

“Why would someone hug a chicken?” Red asked himself, seeing the crooked skeleton across the clearing cuddle a quite large, orange-colored hen to his chest.

Crooks nuzzled his cheek against the chicken's head, as equivalent to a kiss the crooked-toothed monster could get.

“no, no, don't kiss it, fuck.” Red grumbled before he fell back asleep--mostly against his better judgement.

 

He couldn't help he was always tired.

 

When next he woke, the sun was up, but there was a thick fog covering the clearing. He could hardly see a few feet in front of him, much less the house.

The red light of his eyes bounced off the moisture in the air, and he shook the dew from his skull violently.

There was no way he was gonna walk up on the house now. If Axe and Crooks spotted him, much less his eyelights, lurking around, they'd be sneakier than ever.

If they had you, he'd have to wait and see another time.

With a growl, Red shifted his coat back up around his jaw, and hunched up his shoulders. He would check back in to the main house for now, but he'd be back to do the same thing later that night, too.

He didn't care how long it took.

 

\--

 

The trek back down the mountain and to the cabin was a slightly longer one. Sans led once again, but every few minutes he would glance back at you through the thick fog that had formed.

The center of your chest still ached, your limbs heavy as you walked. Maybe you could chalk it up to not having eaten since the previous evening, but that didn't feel quite right.

Instead of dwelling on it, you tried your best to keep up with Sans, staying just a few feet behind him at most.

Around your shoulders, you carried the quilt, wrapped tightly around you. Burying your cheeks in the softness wrapped across your back, you felt as though you couldn't get warm.

Once you'd made it onto a gentle slope, the ground evening out, you felt some of the tension leave your body, but not enough that you found you could breathe deeply.

Ahead of you, Sans strode toward the familiar cabin in the clearing, only stopping to look back when you lagged behind.

He hadn't said a word on the way there, but from the look on his face, he knew there was something not quite right with your disposition. Instead, he simply waited until you caught up, adjusting the telescope under his arm.

Coming up onto the back porch, he opened the door and motioned for you to enter with the tilt of his head, though not before he took a quick look inside the kitchen.

There was no one inside, and it hadn't smelled like someone had made breakfast just yet, that someone being--

“SANS!” Papyrus all but scolded as he quickly came down the hall, having heard the back door clank against the doorframe. Entering the kitchen, he stood as tall as he could, his head nearly touching the ceiling, “WHERE HAVE YOU TWO BEEN? DID YOU STARGAZE ALL NIGHT?”

His dwarfed eyelights turned to you, the small sockets of his eyes narrowing. And even though Sans stood in front of you, Papyrus' focus didn't leave once it landed on your person.

“no worries, bro.” Sans shook his head with a mirthful grin, and stepped forward to face his brother, “kitten fell asleep after a while. didn't wanna make her walk back so late.”

Taking a moment to let the excuse sink in, Papyrus wrung his hands in his sweater, “I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK.”

Sans chuckled with a shrug and looked over his shoulder at you, “ya had fun, right? that's what counts.”

Simply nodding to him that you had, in fact, enjoyed yourself, Papyrus let his hands fall away from his shirt. If he kept up, there would be a hole in the fabric in no time.

Coming up behind you, Sans took the quilt from your shoulders and placed it under his free arm, nudging you toward his brother with his hip, “why don't you two make breakfast? I'll put this stuff away.”

Sans walked past you two as you shivered at the loss of warmth, Papyrus' borrowed sweater seeming to only do so much. The large skeleton stared down at you worriedly, his gaze trained on the center of your chest.

It was hard to tell, though, with the light of his eyes being so minute.

With a sigh, he let his shoulders fall, his mouth curving into a gentle smile, “LET'S MAKE BREAKFAST, THEN. I'VE GOT QUITE A FEW DOUBLE YOLKS, I’M SURE!”

 

\--

 

The short while after you arrived was a bit of a blur. The pain in your chest still remained, and a small headache was beginning to form, but you remained next to Papyrus.

He talked a bit quieter than normal, noticing your discomfort at the volume of his voice, and offered to fetch your coat from his room.

You were shivering.

Now clothed in his sweater and your coat, you were much warmer, much more comfortable than you had been. Papyrus noticed the difference, and happy, showed you the best way to make quiche.

Apparently, the “egg pie” was quite a conundrum to him before he came to the surface. He admitted bashfully he hadn't thought them to be an actual food stuff--but a joke that Sans had made on the spot at one point.

Papyrus turned to you as he prepared the crust for the quiche, lining the deep pan to bake it. “DO YOU MIND RUNNING TO THE GARDEN AND GETTING SOME SPINACH, KITTEN?” Pulling open the silver drawer, he took out a dull knife, handing it to you.

His fingers lingered for a moment against your palm before he pulled away quickly, his cheeks tinted a faint orange. “ONE OR TWO LARGE BUNDLES WILL DO!”

Whipping the eggs in a large bowl, he nodded to the back door, “IT'LL TAKE NO TIME TO COOK! THEN THE THREE OF US CAN TALK ABOUT THE CONSTERNATIONS YOU SAW!”

Constellations. He'd meant to say constellations.

With a small smile, you turned and made your way out the back, and headed toward the garden. It was still rather early in the morning, and the fog on the mountain was as thick as ever, though overhead there were storm clouds brewing.

And still your chest was tight, if not tighter than it had been before.

You only wished you knew what was causing it.

Making your way over to the garden, you trot into the center of the plot. Down in the dirt, just at your shoes, was a thick gathering of leaves, and another, and another, all gathered in a neat little line that spanned about fifteen feet or so.

Bending low on one knee, you began to cut at the bundle of rich, green leaves. About halfway through, however, something shifted.

The pain in your chest increased, your brow knitted in an attempt to collect yourself. Letting yourself sit on your knees, you held yourself steady on your hands.

Why did you chest hurt so bad?

Fingers clenched against the dirt, you tried to take a deep breath.

But you couldn't.

There was a thrum deep in your ribs, a harsh static that spread from the center of your chest and out to your limbs.

It felt like white noise, tingling madly against your skin like a thousand ants.

You hadn't even realised your cheek lay against the damp soil of the garden until it was too late, your body welcoming the cold.

 

\--

 

Sans entered the kitchen, having put his treasured telescope in his room. Not that he didn't trust it out in the living room, but there was a comfort to see it when he tried his best to sleep.

Inside the kitchen, Papyrus was waiting for the oven to warm up, cutting a thick block of ham to put in the quiche.

Sans could only laugh. Of course it was “egg pie”.

Despite hating the idea of quiche initially, Papyrus took to it after Sans had made it one night. It wasn't on par with his brother's spaghetti to be sure, but it tasted damn good.

And it kept well for leftovers. Not a bit of it was wasted.

“what else is there to do?” Sans asked, coming up to his brother's side.

Papyrus stopped slicing through the ham and stared down at the smaller monster, the bone between his eye sockets knitted.

“THE ONLY THING LEFT BESIDES THIS,” he motioned to the meat on the cutting board in front of him, “IS THE SPINACH. I ASKED KITTEN TO GRAB SOME FROM THE GARDEN ABOUT TEN MINUTES AGO.”

His gaze motioned to the kitchen window, where a light drizzle of rain was now falling. Sans followed his gaze with a roll of his one good eye--a move that looked nothing like an actual eye roll.

“I'll take over this. go help her out.” He grabbed the dangerously sharp knife from Papyrus and all but shimmied him out of the way.

With an indignant huff, Papyrus strode to the backdoor and took a peek outside.

The rain wasn't hard, merely sprinkling, but the fog had remained. It rolled from the top of the mountain like a thick blanket, shrouding the clearing and the woods like an almost eerie cartain.

Stepping out onto the lawn, Papyrus made quick work toward the Garden, his long strides carrying him with ease.

As he approached, he could make out your form amongst the leaves, his shoulders falling. Part of his mind was worried that you may have run away.

Oh, but you wouldn't have done that! Where else would you have gone?

Unless you'd suddenly remembered somehow.

But surely you would have told them if that happened?

“KITTEN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Papyrus questioned almost playfully as he came up through the fog. It wasn't until he was close, that the small smile fell from his face.

Rushing over, he kneeled down in the dirt and rolled you over. Careful to hover over you, he kept the rain from falling down anymore on your prone form.

Shaking you by the shoulders, Papyrus’ wide eyes darted all over.

You hadn't responded at all.

Grabbing at your cheeks, your skin was clammy and cold, your breath shallow against your lips. “KITTEN!” He tried, slapping against your face rather gently, too afraid to actually slap.

His eyes roved down to the center of your chest, and he knew he should have said something earlier when Sans brought you home.

Something about your soul had been off--the energy of it wrong, distorted. It sounded almost like when he'd found you trapped in his net.

Placing a large hand against your chest, he brought out the small, glowing heart from the confines of your body. The light of it was dim, the hole that had been mostly healed in its center reopened somewhat.

Panicking, Papyrus took you into his arms, your soul hovering over your chest as you were jostled. Clutching you tightly against him, he raced back to the house, careful not to slip on the wet grass.

Nearly knocking the door from its hinges, Sans spun around when his brother entered abruptly, the knife in his hand brandished.

But when Papyrus continued on toward the living room, Sans placed the knife down and followed. “bro, what happened?”

There was a small trail of rainwater that dripped from the back door and to the living room, then down the hall, glittering against the old hardwood of the floor.

Sans’ gaze was trained on the weak, little heart that bounced above your chest, giving his brother space as you were taken into his room and gingerly placed down on the overly-large bed.

“I-I DON'T KNOW. THE WOUND IS BACK. I--” Papyrus sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress groaning under the new weight. There was no hesitation as he placed his hands above your soul, his phalanges dyed a deep green.

Screwing his sockets shut, Papyrus focused on pouring what magic he could into that little heart.

What was done to you that the damage would return in such a way? It had been healed, a shadow of what it'd been when he found you.

And now it was back.

Sans could only stand to the side and watch as his brother did what he could to stabilize your soul. He couldn't help but notice the pallor to your skin, the way your chest barely rose and fell.

What if his brother's magic didn't work this time? Or what if it did, and it happened _again_? Sans couldn't help but clench his hands into the pockets of his coat.

No, Paps could do it.

He didn't doubt him for a minute.

 

\--

 

Coming up to the house, Red stepped onto the covered porch, pulled down his hood, and shook the rain from his shoulders.

Fucking rain.

It had been hard enough to walk back from the Crooked Bros house, but with the fog and rain, shortcutting his way through the woods only tired him out even more.

Too tired to shortcut anymore, he'd been forced to walk the rest of the way.

Now his sneakers and shorts were muddied, his nice coat soaked, and his socks sloshing with every step.

Normally, he liked the squeaky noises his shoes made--it irritated everyone else, which was the point--but now? No, it was fucking irritating _him_.

Throwing open the door, Red stomped into the foyer. He'd only managed to slam the door shut when he noticed the entirety of the living room was full, the skeletons of the household all gathered in one place.

The only ones missing were Black and Mutt.

What the fuck was going on?

Vanilla stood in the middle of the room, his sockets sunken and dark like he'd been told something he hadn't asked to hear. The two couches we're lined with the others, save Stretch, who stood staring out the window.

“We need to talk.” Vanilla announced quietly, letting Red step into the circle of monsters.

Already he didn't like the tension in the air, the way Blue's eyes shot from the floor, to his brother, and back again.

Red couldn't help but let a growl escape him, his sharpened fangs curling in a sneer. “y'don't say.”

Papyrus sat on the couch next to Edge, his gloved hands curled nervously around the curve of his knees, “WE WANTED TO WAIT UNTIL YOU GOT BACK. STRETCH SAID HE WANTED TO TALK ABOUT SOMETHING IMPORTANT. TO ALL OF US.”

“well, I'm here. spit it out, ashtray.” Red sneered. He wasn't in the mood for any bullshit.

He was wet, cold, and tired. He wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and forget for a little while.

Stretch pulled a long drag on his cigarette and let the smoke escape from his nose, his eyes locked on nothing in particular as he turned to face them all.

“I did it.” He started cryptically, leaving everyone in the room confused.

Blue spun his head and stared back at his brother with wide eyes. “Did what?” He asked gently, still too out of it to muster anything close to his normal volume.

Stretch still didn't look at anyone in the room, the tension only heightened by his lack of contact.

Irritated, Red crossed his arms tightly over his chest, Edge mimicking the move. There was nothing worse than having their time wasted by someone who pussyfooted around a problem.

Stretch finished off his cigarette and released the smoke with a sigh.

“I sent Y/N away.”

 

_Red's sockets went dark._


	9. One for My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have NSFW chapters available for Dear Hearts and Gentle People! Check them out! You can decide if they're canon or not!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DearHeartsandGentlePeople

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 314 kudos and 3.5k hits? Thank you guys so much! Sorry for being a day late with this one!
> 
> SEE FANART LINKS AT THE END! THANK YOU ALL AGAIN!

\--

 

Chapter 9: One for My Baby

 

\--

 

As one would expect, glass wasn't the nicest thing to roll around on, and it was especially uncomfortable when one was thrown through it.

Learning that the hard way, Stretch had only managed to say “I got into a confrontation with Y/N, and may have damaged her soul--” before he was unceremoniously tackled by Red. The two of them fell across the wet grass, the rain still gently falling, the window to the living room now shattered.

“PAPY!” Blue yelled, jumping from his seat. Clambering up and over the couch, he jumped through what remained of the window and gave chase.

The others shot up, attempting to stop the fight that was about to ensue, but could do nothing as Red lobbed a volley of bright red bones at the escaping skeleton.

Summoning a bone, Blue swung it down at Red. But the enraged monster caught it before it hit the top of his skull, yanking it from Blue's hold with a snarl and kicking him back.

Though tired, Red found a renewed energy at hearing what Stretch had announced so casually. As if damaging your soul was a teensy-weensy little mistake.

Not with his Kitten, it fucking wasn't.

His one lit eye socket burned a deep red, emanating magic in long tendrils as he moved. Chucking bone after bone, Red honed in, Stretch dodging across the yard. He zigzagging out of the way of the projectiles, only to be stopped by another rain of bones.

Avoiding Blue enough that he made it halfway across the yard, Red summoned a massive bone from the ground that launched the smaller skeleton away from. Blue landed roughly on the grass back toward the porch, rolling to a stop.

Through the front door, the others ran out into the yard, save for Edge, who simply waltzed out the broken window, his boots crunching on the shards of glass.

Despite the wet ground, Edge's heeled boots slowed him down none.

It only took a moment for him to summon a particularly large bone of the pointy-stabby variety, before he, too, went to join-in alongside his brother.

The weapon he'd conjured was nearly as long as his own body, jagged on the end like it'd been broken. It may have been made of magic, but through sheer force of will, it was sharpened.

Blue attempted to pull on Edge's scarf to stop him, the small skeleton's face wet--from tears or rain, Edge didn't really care. All he knew was that Ashtray had made a grave mistake.

Undoing the pin that held his scarf, he let it slip from around his neck. Blue landed hard against the ground, watching as the larger monster strode confidently toward the fight.

As much as Edge berated his brother, he knew full well how much Sans… Red cared for you. And an insult to his brother was an insult to him. He'd never admit that little tidbit to anyone--too proud, too hot headed--but his brother knew without the Great and Terrible Edge saying a word that he'd never willingly let harm befall you.

Stretch didn't even attempt to fight back, and only shortcut out of the way as Red continued his onslaught. But with the inclusion of Edge, he was finding it harder and harder to move out of the way in time.

Sans attempted to stop it then and there, sending up a wall of bones to halt Red, but it did nothing as Edge broke it down with ease. Papyrus came next, holding the brothers still for only a moment before his own magic strained to stop them.

Edge simply pushed his way through the magic trapping him, his own anger and intent shattering the field around them.

Papyrus' magic scattered into bright orange shards as he stumbled back, shaking the rain from his head. Once free, Red and Edge continued their onslaught.

Coming up on the line of trees, Stretch leapt into the brush and hid himself behind as many trees as he could. It was all too similar to what he'd done to you--he knew what it felt like now.

The fear of being hunted.

Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since the... Well,  _the_ human.

With a wide swing, Edge cut through the tree Stretch was hidden behind with ease, just barely missing the skeleton as he jumped out of the way.

The large tree came tumbling down, battering others on its way, just missing Blue as he ran into the forest. He sped past Sans and his brother, his clothes dirtied with mud.

Sans threw up his hand, his own eye glowing a bright blue-yellow, before he slammed it down toward the earth.

Red fell easily to the ground, pinned under a massive surge of magic. He slid to a stop, his chin scraping across the dirt and leaves. He clawed and scraped in a futile attempt to break free, but his magic reserves were running thin.

Despite how much he wanted to blip his way to freedom, he couldn't. And now Stretch was getting further and further away, Edge still on his tail.

Red let out a frustrated yell before going slack.

Sans came up alongside him, his hand shaking as he held Red in place under a cover of magic. It wasn't hard to tell the skeleton on the ground was anything but pleased.

If Red didn't dust Stretch, his brother sure as hell would. And if that was the case, he wanted to make sure he spit in what was left. Then kick it. Sweep it up and throw it in the dump.

“we gotta let him explain, Red.” Sans warned, a line of sweat rolling down his head. Despite the situation, he knew Stretch needed to elucidate on what happened. He didn't put it past the other-timeline-monster that he'd hurt a human.

“Hurt” was a… Sans laughed.

It wasn't a  _ stretch _ . In fact, it was probably an understatement.

If Stretch was like any of the other Judges, Sans knew they could go a bit wild when it came to “earned” retribution. He'd seen enough shish kebab-ed humans to know he didn't enjoy the sight.

But he also knew when it went too far. When it wasn't  _actually_ the fault of the human.

Like a blur, Blue ran past the two of them, giving chase deeper into the forest after Edge and his brother, another bone conjured in his hand.

“y'heard what he fuckin’ said!” Red growled, struggling against the hold of magic, “he ain't worthy of the title “judge!””

Sans couldn't make a retort, his own brother coming up beside him. If what Stretch said was true, and he had managed to damage your soul, that explained why you were missing.

Who was to say you even knew who you were anymore? Or if you  _ did _ know who you were, after something like that, why  _ would _ you return to the house? Or what if the damage kill--

He shook his head. Humans were sturdier than that. All the Judges present knew better than anyone. And you'd always had a certain determination about you, despite what you thought.

But that didn't explain why you hadn't answered your phone, the numerous texts they all sent you. If it was Stretch's doing, and his alone, surely you would have brought it up with at least Red. Maybe even Edge or Mutt.

If anyone, it would have been Red. There was almost nothing you two didn't share.

How badly  _ had _ Stretch damaged your soul?

\--

After what felt like hours, though it may have only been minutes, Papyrus let his hands fall onto the bed. Sighing heavily, he collected himself, the beginnings of a headache at the front of his skull.

The little heart above your chest was healed again. And this time, not even a divot remained. He'd poured so much healing magic into you at once, he was sure he'd given himself a rush.

It may have been a little overzealous, but Papyrus didn't want to chance something happening to your soul again.

From the hall, Sans tiptoed in, a plate held in his hand. It was the quiche they'd been working on before everything happened, fully cooked and waiting.

He gave pause next to his brother, taking a moment to stare down at your unconscious form before placing the plate next to Papyrus on the bed.

“good job, bro. knew you could do it.” Sans put his hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed somewhat. Through that alone, he could feel just how spent Papyrus had been.

With a raise of his hand, Papyrus sent your soul back into your chest, his fingers lingering.

“Brother, what do you think caused this?” He asked, his voice filled with fatigue, volume lower than ever before.

“think it's more a “who”.” Sans pushed the plate against the side of Papyrus’ hand, pulling a fork from the pocket of his coat to give him.

Papyrus’ tiny sockets stared up at his brother, his fingers curled against the comforter. “So I thought.” He took the fork offered him and began to eat at the quiche, his gaze occasionally traveling to your relaxed face. “There was magic pushing back when I was healing her.”

Sans shoved his hands back in his pockets and simply stared at you as you rested, making sure his brother ate enough to replenish some of his magic. "y'don't say?"

Of course he'd sensed some residual magic on your soul when you were brought inside. Sans couldn't place who it belonged to, but the intention, no matter how faint, was as clear as the night they found you.

“She should be fine now.” Papyrus confirmed tiredly, half his slice of quiche gone, “I don't know when she'll wake up.”

He kept himself from saying “If she even does”, too afraid that you might not come back.

Any of the magic that lingered on your soul from the initial damage had been purged, pushed out by the overpowering green magic Papyrus pumped into you. Now, your little heart was whole and glowed a very slight orange--a different hue of than the one initially there.

Darker, and more intense. Very much Papyrus.

Finishing his quiche, he stood and stretched, patting his brother on the head as a thank you, careful to mind the hole in his skull.

“take my bed for a bit, bro. I'll keep an eye on her.” Sans nudged his brother toward the door. And even though it was obvious Papyrus would have liked to stay, he was also  _ obviously _ exhausted.

Without argument, Papyrus walked off to the kitchen, scratching the back of his skull sheepishly. He mumbled something to himself, but Sans couldn't make a word out. It didn't much matter.

Pulling up the chair from Papyrus’ desk, Sans sat next to the bed and watched for a few minutes.

His one red eye lingered on your chest, watching the rise and fall of your ribs as you breathed normally. No longer were they shallow, uneven breaths.

Sliding his hand up on to the bed, he gave a few unsure pokes at your arm, if only to see if you would stir. When you didn't, he grabbed your wrist gingerly, your soft skin giving a bit under the prods of his fingers.

He focused on the pulse there, a steady thumping he found to be rather soothing. It was like last night, when your soul was so loud in your chest, and he'd only managed to calm it down by smothering it.

He'd seen the different ways a human checked their heartbeat while in the Underground--especially after a bad “shock”. He knew he could feel it in your throat, too, if he was adventurous.

Sans chuckled, turning your hand around in his, remembering the first night he'd greeted you.

You had no idea how badly he wanted to put a screw through your hand, if only for old times sake. But it wouldn't have been worth it--Papyrus would have been so upset to find the human he'd been caring after was hurt because of an off-color prank.

And, it would have ruined any chance of you staying willingly with them.

Lifting your hand, he inspected the way your fingers flexed, feeling the bone beneath. Humans were so fascinating. Technically a skeleton, but not like him or Papyrus, not like a monster.

As much as you two were alike, you were just as different.

And your hand was so small compared to his, almost completely covered by his fingers as he curled them shut. He could crush it so easily, and without a second thought.

But that was besides the point. Or maybe that was the point.

Letting loose your hand, he pushed from the chair and made his way to the closet. Sans threw it open to find another blanket, this one adorned with printed stars and moons. He'd forgotten where it came from, but perhaps Papyrus remembered.

Making his way back to the bed, he less than gently threw the blanket over you, grateful you were out cold.

He may have accidentally swatted your face.

Pleased, he simply stood there and watched, not bothering to sit back down. Hopefully, you would wake up soon, and be back to your old self… well, not your  **old** self. Not the original you. The you  _ they _ knew.

Their Kitten.

For now, though, he had to make sure things were taken care of in the kitchen. It would only take him a little while, enough that he didn't worry about leaving you.

Besides, Sans knew Papyrus wouldn't take him up on his offer.

\--

Edge slammed Stretch down into the dirt, his gloved hand wrapped around the other skeleton's skull as he pinned him.

Holding him in place, Edge replaced his hand with his boot, lodging the vertebrae of Stretch's throat between the heel and sole of his shoe.

Pleased he'd finally captured the runaway skeleton, Edge stood to full height, towering over the monster beneath him.

“EXPLAIN, WHILE I STILL LET YOU.” He demanded. He crossed his arms tightly, the leather of his gloves squealing as they twisted to accommodate. “I AM MORE LENIENT THAN MY IDIOT BROTHER, BUT DO NOT TEST ME.”

Stretch was exhausted. He should have just stopped running, told them all what he was going to say right then and there--but Red was so damned short-tempered, it would have been impossible.

Now didn't that sound familiar?

Letting his head rest in the hole Edge had made with his skull, Stretch cracked one eye open to stare up at him. “I hurt her soul. what else is there to say?” He let his eyes shut, too tired from shortcutting around the woods.

He may not have fought back, but that didn't mean running away hadn't drained him.

The air around them was chilly, but thankfully the rain stopped halfway through the chase. However, Stretch already felt the sting of mud seeping through his clothes.

“WHY?” Edge pushed on his leg with most of his weight, his heel digging deeper into the dirt around Stretch's neck. “WHY ATTACK HER? I AM NOT BLIND. YOU TWO WERE NEARLY AS INSEPARABLE AS HER AND RED.”

“I jumped to conclusions. I thought she hurt Blue.” Edge narrowed his sockets at the skeleton under his boot, the cracks around his eye crinkling. “had a flashback to the Underground. couldn't shake it.”

“A TERRIBLE EXCUSE.” Edge tilted his chin up, tiny red eye lights trained down on Stretch, “I EXPECTED NO LESS FROM YOU. BUT THIS IS NOT YOUR TIMELINE, NOR IS IT MINE. OUR HUMAN IS NOT THE ONE WHO WREAKED HAVOC.”

Stretch knew that. Of course he did.

He knew you weren't the human that had fallen into the Underground, but it didn't bother him any less when the image of a dust-covered bandana came to mind. He'd seen it too many times to count, too many times to just let his mind let it slip by.

When Blue had the crack in his head from training with you, teaching you how to defend yourself, Stretch couldn't help but let his mind think you'd entered a confrontation. That, coupled with the very obvious affection his brother had for you made for a bad time.

“I messaged her at first,” Stretch continued, thinking back to some of the awful things he'd said, things he wished he could take back.

Stretch let everything out to Edge then.

Accusations, jealous remarks, scathing comments that hinted he was unnerved by what was happening with you and his brother, with Red, even. There were comments about the others in the house as well, Edge included.

It didn't excuse the fact he'd followed you on your morning walk, confronted you away from the house, didn't listen to a word you said even as he knew you were telling the truth about what happened.

He shouldn't have left you in the forest, alone and afraid, with a damaged soul. He should have let you talk, actually listened as you tried to explain.

Not try to kill you because he couldn't control the intrusive thoughts any more.

He owed you that much. And then some.

He remembered seeing the look in your eyes just as the bone pierced your soul, but it was too late at that point. You were frozen, gaze trained on the magic that impaled the small heart in front of your chest.

He remembered watching you fall back, your HoPe dangerously close to zero as he turned away from you, the very human he called friend. Called something more.

It wasn't until later when his thoughts cleared up enough, that he'd realised what he'd done.

The guilt on his shoulders was heavy, but he kept quiet, too afraid to say a word. Not to Blue. Not to anyone.

Stretch felt his bones itch, his sins crawling over him like white noise. The feeling crept up his spine, up and around his neck like a noose.

Edge simply glared, his sockets so thin one would think he'd closed them if not for the hot red magic inside them.

He was less than pleased with what he heard.

“MORON.” He scolded, taking his boot from around Stretch's throat, “Y/N WOULD NEVER HURT YOUR BROTHER, EVEN IF SHE WAS CAPABLE. YOUR LACK OF CONTROL IS PATHETIC.”

Stretch didn't bother to sit up, and instead, threw his arm over his eyes to block out the rain that dripped from the treetops above them.

“A COWARD LIKE YOU COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO TELL US WHAT HAPPENED. AS IF WE COULDN'T INTERVENE.” Edge would have taken all parties and dragged them into his torture… the  _ living room _ and had a sit-down. It would have been simple enough to have you and Blue explain to Stretch and the others what happened.

Even talk about Blue's feelings for you.

But, no. Stretch had to potentially kill one of the only good things they, as monsters, had known on the surface all because his “fee-fees” got hurt.

“WHERE IS Y/N NOW?”

Stretch pulled his sleeve back just enough to stare up at Edge, only one eye open, “I don't know. I went back to find her, and she was gone.”

“AS YOU DESERVE.” It didn't bring any comfort to Edge that you were still missing, that the idiot at his feet managed to not only nearly kill you, but lose you to whatever lurked in the woods.

"WE WILL RETURN TO THE OTHERS, AND YOU WILL TELL THEM WHAT YOU HAVE TOLD ME." His sharpened teeth ground together, "AND THEN YOU WILL BE PUNISHED ACCORDINGLY. ARE WE CLEAR?"

Just then, from behind them, Blue scampered onto the path. He stumbled forward when he saw them, a large blue bone at the ready to face Edge.

Simply snorting, Edge stepped away from the mess of a skeleton at his toes and took a moment to himself.

He realised then just how bare he felt without his beloved scarf.

Blue took the opportunity to race forward to his brother's side, dispelling the magic he held.

“PAPY, ARE YOU OKAY?” He questioned frantically, his hands digging into the fabric of Stretch's hoodie as he kneeled on the ground.

“m'fine, bro.” He answered slowly, but a smile couldn't reach his face. Blue was staring at him, his eyes wide and searching, small star eyes slightly blurred.

“Papy, did you,” Blue paused, hands pawing at his brother's chest, “Did you really hurt Y/N?” Small, glittering beads gathered around his eyes, his shoulders shaking somewhat.

From the ground, Stretch could only stare at his brother, his sockets half closed.

His teeth parted, about to finally tell the truth to Blue--

But then they clicked shut, his eyes closing.

That was an answer enough.

\--

Back at the main house, Red sat on the porch, utterly spent.

A small, plastic cup filled with Sea Tea sat beside him, provided by Papyrus. They'd dragged him back home, out of the woods, where he could clear his head. He'd jumped so quickly to attack Stretch, he hadn't even thought about what he was doing.

Going ballistic wasn't going to bring you back.

And it sure as hell made him look like a hypocrite.

Sans and his brother were inside, the window to the living room blocked off with a sheet of plywood they'd taken from the rear shed. Thankfully, skeleton monsters weren't too bothered by the cold, and a slight breeze in the house was actually a bit…

No. It wasn't  _ really _ refreshing.

Edge, Blue, and Stretch still hadn't returned, and it was over an hour since they all ran out of the house. Red took a sip of his tea and stared down at his muddied sneakers.

He didn't even know what would happen next.

All he did know was that he needed sleep, especially if he was going to go back to the Crooked Bros house again later that night. And with the knowledge Stretch was the one who sent you… running? With that knowledge, Red didn't put it past Axe and Crooks on being involved somehow.

He just needed to catch them in the act.

Eyes downcast, he let his mind wander. What could you have done to make Stretch damage your soul? It wasn't that you two hadn't had arguments before--every relationship had them--but that didn't excuse what he'd done.

Hell, even you and Red had spats, but it was never anything he kept as a grudge, never anything he'd use to try and legitimately hurt you.

You'd always kiss and make up, though Red joked that it didn't have to stop there.

He ran his phalanges across the top of his skull and snorted in frustrated fatigue. The last thing he wanted to see was Ashtray's mug again--he might just go for a second round.

If he didn't fall down first, that is.

Red took another sip of his tea and cringed.

He hated Sea Tea.

But he hated Stretch more.

\--

Slowly, the room came into focus, and through the haze that sat in your eyes, you dared to look around.

Beside the bed was an empty chair, pulled from the desk across the room. A familiar, faded blue coat sat on it, hung on the top of the chair by the furred hood.

The lamp in the room was off, the light of the midday, overcast sun shining through the slats of the window blinds.

Resting over you was a comfortable blanket, adorned with gold stars and moons. It brought with it a relaxing weight and a welcome warmth.

Shifting your head, you looked to your right, noticing a mass laid across the bed about a foot away from you.

Asleep, his hands curled into a pillow, Papyrus lay next to you. However, he was far enough away that you didn't think he'd done it to be odd. If anything, it was similar to how Sans had been that morning, his arm draped over your chest.

Papyrus slept soundly, his brow only slightly knitted as his bony fingers twitched every so often.

He was dreaming.

Out from under the cover, you slowly snaked one of your hands toward him. You were surprised the tightness in your chest was gone, replaced by a featherlight feeling of comfort you hadn't felt in a while.

When you looked at the sleeping skeleton, you couldn't help but feel relief, the center of your chest warm.

Just barely touching one of his hands, you gently poked at the bones there. It earned you a quiet whine from the skeleton, his shut sockets fluttering as you paused.

You slowly remembered what happened, how you'd gotten there.

You'd gone out to the garden to fetch some… something for breakfast, for Papyrus. That eluded you, at least. But you did recall the feeling of static and a pressure that built up in your chest. You remembered the feeling of cold dirt against your cheek.

You remembered the dream you had that morning.

Then nothing.

Shifting to lay on your side, you wiggled your way somewhat across the bed, until you laid just under a foot from the spindly skeleton beside you.

The bed was enough to accommodate his immense height, his knees only just barely bent. And it was far more than enough for you that you were so far from the edge of the bed now, if Sans returned he'd have to crawl up on it just to check you.

Papyrus squirmed as you touched his hand again, until finally his sockets opened slowly.

At first, he simply stared blearily, too stuck in sleep to register who was in front of him. But when it finally clicked, his eyes shot open.

His jagged teeth clicked together, tiny eye sockets going wide.

Scrambling to grab the small one next to his, he held tightly to your hand with both of his own, “KITTEN, YOU'RE AWAKE.” When you winced at the volume, he lowered it sheepishly, “You're awake. Sans and I were worried.”

His fingers unconsciously fumbled around your hand, his cheekbones tinged a light orange, “What happened? Do you remember?”

Simply, you nodded and placed your free hand against the center of your chest, your eyes screwed shut. You weren't sure if Papyrus knew what you meant by the motion, but with the way his face fell it must have made sense.

Scooting just a bit closer, Papyrus cradled your hand, the minuscule lights in his eyes dancing anywhere but your face.

“Your--” he paused, hands slightly tighter, “ _ Heart _ was hurting?”

The way he'd emphasised “heart” didn't escape you. “But do you feel better now?”

You nodded your head, and he visibly relaxed, his shoulders falling from around his jaw. “GOOD. Good. That's good!”

Even though you'd slept through most of the night, just sleeping on the ground was enough to tire you out all over again. That, and whatever transpired outside.

Shutting your eyes, you let Papyrus continue to hold your hand.

You ignored the way your stomach rumbled in protest, your body simply wanting to sleep despite the hunger gnawing at you.

Quiche could come later.

You wanted nothing more than some actual sleep.

In front of you, you could hear Papyrus shift on the bed, his hands never leaving yours. You should have gotten up, let him have a moment to himself, one where he wasn't constantly watching over you.

But how would you know what he even wanted?

\--

Papyrus moved just slightly closer again, his sockets trained on your chest as he CHECKED your soul.

Some of his magic reserves had returned already, making it easy to see if he'd missed something, anything.

Thankfully, your HP was back to normal, nearly topped off, the glow of your soul back to how he'd always seen it: just slightly dimmer than he'd like.

Sighing, he relaxed, and simply continued to hold your small hand in his.

It was so delicate, completely encompassed by his and then some. It was hard for him to comprehend that heart inside your chest kept you alive, kept you going.

He'd seen his fair share of hearts Underground. Some beating.

Most of them… not.

And he'd meant literal hearts. The thumping kind. Not the one Papyrus blushed at whenever he saw it, despite the circumstance.

He couldn't help he'd seen your soul more than a few times already.

It surprised him you were alive at all with that hole in your soul, too. That someone as frail as a human hadn't fallen apart yet from that kind of damage.

What could have happened to you that caused such havoc, so severe that it came back after almost being fully healed?

Papyrus didn't know.

Nudging your shoulder gently, you didn't respond as he looked to see if you were still awake.

You only let out a quiet huff.

It was alright. You needed rest.

Closing the gap between the two of you even more, he laid next to you, your body fitting beside his easily. He pulled your hand close and held it against his chest, the blanket Sans placed on you emanating a soft warmth.

His sockets drifted shut, sleep pulling him down just as it had you.

It stopped raining not too long ago.

And soon, he'd have to go outside to tend to the garden, to his chickens. And to give Lydian her daily hug.

That was at the top of the list.

But for now, he'd rest a bit at your side. If only to make sure you were truly alright.

At least that's what Papyrus told himself.

\--

Pushing open the door quietly, Sans crept into the room. The only light within filtered through the window, the lamp next to the bed off to let you sleep.

It didn't shock Sans to see his brother back in his own bed when he offered his less than stellar accommodations. It wasn't hard to blame him when Sans’ room was a bit of a pig sty.

He made a note that his trash tornado had mysteriously stopped spinning.

It especially didn't shock him to see Papyrus curled around you, asleep and unknowing. The large skeleton held to your hand with one of his own, his arm thrown loosely over your waist as though he'd done it in his sleep.

Sans walked up to the bed and inspected the two of you further.

You must have woken up and turned to face Paps at one point, but whoever initiated cuddle time was a mystery to Sans.

Not that he minded.

In fact, he grinned.

If it made his brother happy, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Well, maybe one other way that perhaps involved him, but that was neither here nor there.

Sans turned and gathered his coat from the chair he'd left next to the bed.

Perhaps he'd do a little something special for Papyrus that day to make up for that morning's events. Maybe he'd go and tend to the garden a bit. Maybe hug a particularly fat chicken.

Yeah.

Papyrus would like that.

And that was enough.

For now, at least.

\--


	10. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten and Papyrus have a little alone time to talk about souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the kudos, comments, and hits! Sorry for taking so long on this one--it's longer than a normal chapter, so it took a while to hit all the points I wanted!
> 
> 4.3k hits and 358 kudos? QwQ
> 
> I also went to Tidewater Comic Con in my Gaster costume, and had a blast!
> 
> \--
> 
>  
> 
> Fanart at the bottom!

\--

Chapter 10: A Visitor

\--

Stumbling from bed, you sat for a moment on the floor, tangled up in a thick blanket. There was no sign of Papyrus or Sans in the room, the light from the window low enough that it may have been early evening.

You remembered waking up before, Papyrus on the bed next to you. There was that moment where you felt alright, where just being next to him brought you a sense of calm, a warmth to your chest.

But it was faint now, replaced with heavy breathing as you tried to collect yourself after having fallen from the bed.

The dream from that morning came again, waking you up at almost the same spot.

From outside the window, you could hear low talking, followed by someone much louder--Papyrus, you knew. He and Sans must have been in the garden, if you remembered the layout correctly.

They couldn't have stayed with you all day anyway. There were chores to do--you had some of your own if you were going to stay under their roof.

You needed to get moving.

Slowly rising from the floor, you dropped the blanket on the bed and tried your best to stretch. When you did, though, you found yourself doubling over, your stomach in knots. It felt as though someone had punched you hard, the center of your gut twisted.

Thankfully, your chest felt alright. There was no sign of the white noise or the heavy beating in your ears. Only the faint pain of nausea.

Looking down your nose, you swore you saw a faint glimmer of orange between your breasts, but it could have just been your imagination or a trick of the light. Maybe you stood up too quick and there were simply spots in your vision.

It was gone before you could do a double take.

After grabbing a change of clothes, you clung to the wall. Slowly, you made your way to the door and down the hall toward the bathroom. Entering, you lazily closed the door behind you and doubled over the toilet, clothes dropped on the floor.

Despite how much your stomach protested, nothing came. What could make you feel so sick that your belly was full of rocks, but not let you remedy it?

Seated on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, you held a shaky hand to your head. Your dreams hadn't been much better since that morning. Flashes of a… man, maybe, dressed in that same orange hoodie you dreamt about before plagued you. The same one that chased you through the woods in your dream.

Some parts had been longer, and you could vaguely recall seeing a face. But now awake, most of the dream escaped you. You couldn't remember anything more than the color orange about the human... or monster. That, and the shock of your soul being impaled by a rather sharp bone.

The scene replayed in your head again: the magic weapon piercing the small heart in front of your chest. Your soul.

Had you ever actually seen your soul?

You didn't think so. At least you hadn't seen it for as far back as you could remember. Part of you intrinsically knew it was your soul, or perhaps a close approximation.

It was shaped like a cartoonish heart after all.

You'd simply ask Papyrus later, you decided. Surely, he'd show you how it looked. Maybe shed some light on souls, in general, if that was actually a thing.

It could have simply been your mind going wild. Anxiety and dreams, you knew, went hand in hand, though you hardly felt anxious enough that it would bother you to this extent.

Maybe it was because you couldn't remember anything.

Maybe it was because you were so close to remembering  _ something _ .

Or maybe it was just a run of bad luck.

You stayed on the floor for a few more moments before you made your way up into the tub, shedding your clothes.

A shower would do you well. And after that, you'd try to help the boys as best you could.

They'd taken care of you so well this far. Their hospitality needed to be paid in kind.

\--

"don't be embarrassed, bro." Sans consoled Papyrus as he sat in the grass, a bundle of cloth and old leaves gathered next to him. A curious finch landed on his skull some time ago, but he tried his best to ignore it as it pecked around the hole in his head.

The beginnings of a scarecrow were in his lap, two thick tree limbs tied together with twine. If Mutt was quick, he'd notice he was down a pair of pants and a shirt. But Sans hardly cared. They were the only clothes big and tall enough that it towered over the plot without using his own brother's.

Black and Mutt only bothered to come over when they felt like heckling them, anyway, and the last thing Sans wanted or needed was someone messing with Papyrus.

Not with how the lanky skeleton was currently acting.

From their position in the garden, Papyrus could hear the shower turn on inside, dull through the wood of the cabin wall.

You were awake.

Sighing, Papyrus sat on his bony knees and gathered up a few potatoes as Sans continued with the scarecrow. He hardly looked his brother's way while he toiled in the dirt, his mind on other things--things aside from the sound of the shower or the idea that you may have been in a state of undress.

Or things like how he woke up with you pulled against his ribs, his own soul outside of his body and pressed against you.

He had to stop himself from panicking, then. He'd nearly thrown you from the bed, only just managing to control himself.

He hadn't meant for it to happen! It was an accident! Surely, he'd done it unconsciously in his sleep!

At least that's what Papyrus told himself, his confidence wavering. Despite his consolation, it didn't do much to best back the feelings building in his bones.

According to the thrum in the center of his chest, he'd meant it seriously. He knew he'd used too much magic when healing you, that he'd poured too much of himself into your soul.

And he was feeling the effects of it. So much so, that even asleep his soul was trying to call out to yours, or at least the magic he'd left behind.

Even now, he could sense just a faint signature inside the house, residual magic he'd imprinted on your soul entirely by accident. It would fade with time, of course, but as of right now?

He wanted nothing more than to go back inside and be near you. Maybe… maybe let his own soul out for a bit again and--

Slamming his hands into the dirt to grab a potato, Papyrus' face screwed inward, his jagged teeth gnashed together. No! That was inappropriate! He was only feeling these things because he'd overextended himself.

Not because you were so kind to him. And smiled. And didn't shy away from looking him directly in the eye. Or even touching him.

Not because you cooked with him, and got Sans out of the house. Or that he'd seen your soul several times already and couldn't deny how beautiful he thought it was. Or that you felt so soft and nice while you were asleep next to him.

In  _ his _ bed.

Sans watched his brother relax after his small outburst and shook his head, the finch finally flying away, "stop worrying so much. she won't remember your  _ cuddle time _ ." He chuckled quietly, stuffing Mutt's old shirt with dried grass and leaves as he positioned it around the tree branch.

Try getting at their garden now, crows, Sans thought bitterly.

Papyrus let his shoulders fall, the butt of his palm digging into his ribs to quell the tightness that lay there. He tried not to think about you currently in the shower, or what implications that brought.

His soul beat slow and rhythmic, almost like a heart. But with less blood and viscera. And maybe less beating actually involved.

Papyrus didn't have arteries, after all.

Through his nose, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd taken and went to stand. He'd go inside and check on you. Sans would be alright with his scarecrow, surely.

What potatoes and other crops he'd gathered held in his sweater like a pouch, he made his way to the back door.

He'd just check on you.

A quick check. Nothing more.

-

Standing under the scalding water, you let your body relax. The heat felt so nice, the twisting in your stomach fading the longer you stood there. You'd already bathed, and we're simply enjoying some of the last moments of warmth before you knew you'd have to exit.

Arms extended above your head, you felt your back pop nicely, your shoulders doing the same as the heat made your muscles relax.

Just another minute, and you'd get out.

You heard something click from the other side of the curtain. Though when you peered through the mostly translucent plastic, you saw nothing.

Something probably just fell over in the medicine cabinet. There  _ was  _ a medicine cabinet, right? That, or your clothes fell to the floor from atop The sink.

You didn't actually know, come to think of it.

You faced the other way with a shrug to turn the water off, finally feeling well enough to conquer what was left of the day.

\--

He hadn't meant to stare.

Papyrus leant against the wall of the hallway, the crown of his head crammed against the junction of the wall and ceiling.

He really  _ hadn't meant to stare _ .

Coming from outside, he left the veggies he'd gathered and placed them in the sink to wash before making his way down the hall. From there, he could hear you inside the bathroom, showering.

He listened closely for a minute or two to make sure you were moving within, that you hadn't fallen over and hurt yourself by accident.

Not that he doubted you, of course.

Papyrus simply knew when one's soul was damaged, it might take a little while to get one's faculties completely back, that's all. That, combined with the fact he may have given you a little too much magic, he knew you may have felt… unwell.

For another minute or so, he simply stood with his forehead against the door, listening with his sockets closed to the gentle sound of water hitting the tiled walls and what he assumed was you.

No. You were fine.

He didn't need to worry so much.

But…

Maybe a peek to make sure? A small one.

Just a peek.

Hand on the knob, he slowly turned it and pushed the door open a crack, barely enough to see inside. A bit of mist escaped around his head from the heat but it wasn't unwelcome.

Despite being a skeleton, he rather enjoyed a hot bath. But it had to be far hotter than what a human would find comfortable for him to feel anything about it, really. Not a bath you could share with anyone.

He… he hadn't meant it like that.

Dropping that thought, he squinted his sockets and stared at the shower, to the thin, somewhat see-through lining that kept the water from running out. He could make out the vague outline of your body, the plastic obscuring it in a way it resembled a kaleidoscope.

But he could still see it--even though he knew he  _ shouldn't _ be seeing it. Papyrus knew if he stared any longer, he might brand himself a Peeping Tom for good measure.

Whoever Tom was, Papyrus wanted to speak with him about his life choices.

Regardless, he couldn't look away from the vague outline of your body obscured by the shower curtain, or the faint glow of orange in the center of your chest.

It was so miniscule now there was no way a human could see it. But any monster worth their dust would catch on to it immediately.

Papyrus was in deep.

You turned slightly, and he nearly slammed the door shut when he caught the curve of your chest, the way your back arched, followed by an obscene pop of your spine.

As quietly and as quickly as he could, he pulled the door shut and steadied himself.

You were fine! You were doing fine without him!

And that's how he ended up with himself crammed against the wall, his head pressed almost painfully into the corner.

It was fine. You didn't know he'd stared. You didn't know he felt a heat build up in his chest.

You didn't know he'd nearly broken the doorknob with how hard he held it, to steady himself against running in there.

No. He was fine. It was the magic he'd left behind, is all. After tonight, he'd feel better, less inclined to want to… to do things.

Not terrible things.

Just… things.

Yes. Things. Nondescript and completely innocent things. Cuddling, coddling, petting, hugging, kis--

With a fix to the collar of his sweater, Papyrus returned to the kitchen and cleaned what veggies he brought in. It was an exercise in making himself focus on something else. And most certainly not on the sound of you exiting the bathroom.

\--

The return to the main house had been a solemn one.

In front of Edge walked Stretch, Blue taking up the rear of the line behind the two of them. His sockets were dark, rimmed with grey as though he'd been crying.

He couldn't bear to look at his brother at that moment.

Red was still seated on the porch when the trio returned, his tea partnered with a plate that at one point had a spider donut on it.

Teeth bared as Stretch approached the house, it took every bit of his resolve to stay seated where he was.

Stretch didn't even bother to look his way and entered the house, Edge holding the door open for Blue to go in as well.

Deciding to stay where he was for a few more minutes, Red shook his head when Edge nodded for him to come with. He still needed time to clear the air in case he let himself go off the deep end again.

Let Stretch explain himself, Red told the anger building in his bones. Let him explain himself, and then he and the other Judges could expense punishment--though he might be inclined to bias.

That didn't solve the issue of your disappearance, but it was a start.

One of the rings on his phalanges spun wildly with anxious tension, and he took a few deep breaths, expanding his ribs as far as he could go before relaxing. First, they'd deal with Stretch, then he'd try to sleep, and then?

He'd go to the Crooked Brothers' house again. He knew you'd been there. He just needed to know if you still were.

\--

Stretch was banished to his room, the walls, floor, windows, and door magically sealed shut to prevent anyone from coming in or out, physically or otherwise. Red even marked a glyph on the ceiling as the others left, staring Stretch down as he was the last to leave the room.

Bastard couldn't even look him dead in the eye.

Having told the rest of the house what he told Edge, it was unanimously decided Stretch be put on lockdown. There wasn't much of a plan after that, but the monsters of the house were working with what they had.

Vanilla sat in a plush armchair next to the fireplace, slouched in his seat with his fingers covering his sockets, his slippers dropped to the floor, off his feet. Red was upstairs, finally able to sleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, still wearing his thick coat and shoes as he simply plopped on the bed, exhausted. Edge was making dinner, more angrily than usual, his knife chops pounding against the countertop, his muddied scarf soaking in the sink. Vanilla's brother was out attempting to fix the divots in the yard where the grass was torn up, having already requested an order for a new window to the living room.

And Blue?

Against the wall next to Stretch's door, he sat on the floor, his knees pulled up against his chest. Still dressed in his muddied clothes, he'd hardly taken the time to right himself after his brother was returned home.

Out of all of them, he understood the least as to why Stretch did what he did.

Blue couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

He should have told his brother the whole truth about how you were training with him, how he was teaching you defence against magical attacks. He should have admitted where the crack in his skull came from instead of trying to cover it up initially.

He knew better than anyone how defensive Papyrus--Stretch--was about him being injured.

Blue never expected his own brother to respond the way he did, not at you. Never you.

He hadn't meant to become enamored. He couldn't help it.

You were always so open with all the other skeletons, so welcoming of each of them: Red, Stretch, sometimes even Edge and Mutt. And Blue, himself, now included. He knew his brother could be the jealous and protective type, but...

Sockets sore from rubbing, Blue fiddled with the end of his kerchief mindlessly. He'd tried countless times to get his brother to speak, though it was to no avail. So, instead, he simply stood watch outside the door, hoping Stretch might say something.

Nothing came.

\--

Downstairs, Vanilla groaned as Black and Mutt invited themselves in, having been called after most of the dust settled.

Black was the first to enter, though technically it was Mutt--the smaller skeleton was seated on his brother's shoulder high above the floor--but the larger of the two would tell you otherwise.

In the center of the living room, Black landed and stood poised, his chin held high, his eyes narrowed. He'd only heard bits and pieces of what happened over the phone, and now that he was finally there?

He wanted to know everything.

Positioned on the couch, Black barely noticed as Mutt walked away, too focused on what Vanilla was telling him concerning that morning's events. He wouldn't feign interest then.

Mutt slowly traipsed through the house, popping his head into the kitchen at the smell of something burning. Sure, he'd been a bit peckish when they left their home, but he wasn't about to indulge in whatever the others were cooking.

The room was a bit of a mess, several dirtied bowls left on the counter for whatever Edge was currently concocting. From the smell of it, death was on the menu.

There wasn't any sign of Red or Stretch in the kitchen, however.

He was quick to back off when Edge turned his gaze at him, an unlit dog treat between Mutt's teeth.

He was too tired to deal with that right now.

Like a snake slithering its way along, he made it over to the stairs. Down in the living room, he could barely listen in as Vanilla explained to Black the fight that broke out, how Stretch  _ had _ been the one to "send you away". The smaller of the two was seated on the arm of the couch so that he was slightly taller than his counterpart, Sans now sitting up straight.

Down the hall of the second floor, Mutt spotted Blue in the middle of the walkway, his face bowed in his bandana, his eyes closed like he wanted to sleep but couldn't.

Didn't matter much to Mutt. He already knew Orange-sicle was guilty. Didn't take a fight-and-a-half to figure that out. And he called it last time they were at the main house, so check and mate, there.

Still, he stopped and stared down at Blue, fishing in his pocket for a lighter.

"No smoking." Blue ordered quietly upon hearing the lighter click, his blurred eyelights trained on the floor at Mutt's feet. "House rules."

"ain't my house." Mutt answered, and continued to light his dog treat, inhaling the purple fumes that followed, "they got your bro locked up, huh?" He gave a quiet laugh around his treat, smoke coming from his nose. "figures."

Blue glanced up at him, his face scrunched in annoyance. "What's it to you?"

"knew he was guilty, tyke. wasn't that hard to figure out." Mutt raised his voice, calling through the door, "ain't that right,  _ papyrus _ ? trouble in paradise? mad your girl had other, better options?" His words were muffled by his dog treat, though the weight of his speech was still there.

Blue attempted to kick at Mutt's leg, but the taller monster backed away with ease, the tails of his coat dragging along the floor. "SHUT UP."

"there it is." Mutt laughed at Blue's outburst, "you sit tight like a good, little guard dog." Exhaling purple smoke into Blue's general direction, Mutt walked off, down toward a door spray painted red and black. "ain't here for you anyway."

Slipping through the door, the room was like the void, save for a small series of lights connected to a computer tower somewhere in the dark.

A faint growl could be heard, similar to snoring, from the bed, and Mutt grinned. Climbing up on the unmade mattress, he flopped down on his back, jostling the other monster on the bed awake.

Red snorted at the strange scent that lay next to him, not the one he'd been expecting. Certainly not the smell of the one of the pillows he'd taken from your room.

Eyes shooting open, one of them extinguished as he clawed at the fabric of Mutt's coat, Red tore at the dark. However, he stopped, feeling the familiar texture under his fingers.

"get the fuck out!" He yelled, slamming his fist on the bed, just missing Mutt as he rolled across the mattress with all the grace of a rollie pollie.

Mutt laid against the wall, using his tongue to blow a ring-shaped billow of smoke at Red, "calm down, lover boy, not here to fight. wanna talk."

With a rough snort, Red sat as far as he could away from Mutt without actually leaving the bed, his back turned on the other skeleton. "fine. make it quick." He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and checked the time on the lock screen--the picture of you and him still there.

He didn't dare change it.

"got somewhere to be?" Mutt questioned half-heartedly, the toe of his boot tapping to an unknown tune in his head. "bet I know where."

Staring over his shoulder, Red glared, the edge of his mouth curled up, "s'that so? where, then, smartass?"

His glowing tongue ran over the metal caps of his teeth, and Mutt couldn't help but grin, "axe and crooks' place. you been sniffin' around there, haven't ya?" When Red didn't reply, he continued, "you're not as inconspicuous as you think. surprised axe didn't  _ axe  _ you to leave yet."

"what's it to ya?" Red calmly snorted back, pocketing his phone. There was no way he was falling back asleep now, not with Mutt bothering him.

"I wanna come with. stretchy-boy made a mess of a good thing. wanna see if my hunch was right about axe and crooks." His dog treat spent, he threw the remains of it off into the dark, not really caring if it landed on the floor.

Letting that sink in, Red was quiet.

So, Mutt knew to some degree that something went down between you and Stretch? But the asshole didn't bother saying a lick of it to any of them, save Black, probably.

Figures.

"m'lord wants to stay the night, pass his own judgement on stretch in the mornin'." Mutt twisted around to face Red, his large hood obscuring most of his face, "I wanna see if the ones in the woods have got kitten locked up."

"don't call 'er that. you ain't got the right." Red spat, his phalanges digging into the mattress. No one got to call you that except him--that was his nickname for you, and no one else got to use it. "and fuck you, I don't want your help."

"mighty territorial of you. never said I'd help. just wanna prove myself right." Another moment of quiet passed, and Red had to come to a decision.

There was no way Mutt was going to take no for an answer. Even if Red pummeled him into the floor, the monster would still find a way to slug himself across the forest.

Slimeball.

"fine." He relented, forcing himself from the bed more violent than what was necessary, "but don't get us fuckin' caught."

"same to you, lover boy."

\--

Sliding down the bannister of the stairs, Red put some distance between he and Mutt, the other monster slogging his way down the steps two at a time. Passing the kitchen entryway, Papyrus and Edge were busy discussing how best to make trifle.

That didn't explain why there was currently a steaming bowl of spaghetti noodles between them.

Grillby's was on the menu again, it seemed.

Turning in his seat on the sofa, Black tore his eyes away from the television to watch Red and Mutt make their way to the door. There was a Mettaton soap opera playing, the long-legged robot acting across from… himself. While another version of himself lay splayed out on a chaise.

Apparently, it wasn't holding Black's interest very well.

"WHERE ARE YOU TWO GOING?" Black questioned, turning around fully to look over the back of the sofa. "AND DON'T SAY GRILLBY'S."

"grillby's." Red replied shortly, checking his pockets to make sure he had his phone and house keys. He didn't know how long they'd be out, not when Mutt was coming with him.

Hell, Grillby's might actually happen, depending.

Making a noise like "blegh", Black sat back down, his arms crossed over his chest indignantly, "I EXPECT YOU BACK BEFORE MORNING. I'LL NOT BE WORRYING ABOUT YOU ALL NIGHT."

"of course, m'lord." Mutt ran his hand along the sofa, just barely scratching the top of Black's skull as he followed Red to the door.

Outside, the sun was going below the horizon, the forest dyed a deep orange. The air was cool, the sound of crickets heard chirping deep in the underbrush of the woods, the sound of a distant owl somewhere in the branches. There was a thin mist along the ground, the small lanterns that dotted the slate walkway glowing eerily.

Following across the yard, Mutt ignored some of the pine needles that gathered in the tails of his coat, and continued after Red. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the shorter skeleton was trying to lose him.

Shortcutting to a tree not far in front of Red, Mutt stepped out to spook him, only earning himself a quick slap to the ribs.

It continued like that for almost a half hour.

The two of them were as inconspicuous as a bull in a China shop.

\--

Standing off to the side of the kitchen, you inspected your work. You'd mopped the tile vigorously, removing some odd stains you couldn't quite make out, until at last it was sparkling.

All the while, Papyrus moved around you, dodging your mop as he prepared something in the oven. Curiously, you found he wouldn't look you straight while he made small talk, always focused on something in his hands, or reading through a well-worn cookbook.

Maybe he had a hard time multitasking.

Already, your stomach felt loads better, the shower you'd taken doing wonders. It was amazing what difference a little hot water made.

Smelling the air, you knew there was a chicken in the oven. Unsure if it was one of Papyrus' own, you didn't ask for fear of saddening him.

Did he get sad eating his chickens? You honestly didn't know. You supposed that's why he had them, aside from eggs. He named one, Lydian, so maybe it was one he bought.

No. He didn't strike you as someone to buy something he already had readily available.

Gathering up your pail and mop, you stepped outside to dump the dirtied water. The sun was setting nicely, just into evening, small blips of light appearing in the forest.

Fireflies.

Over in the garden, you spotted Sans putting the finishing touches on a garish scarecrow. He pounded at the dirt with his feet, ensuring the wooden and cloth figure didn't fall onto their precious crops.

He only seemed to notice you when you poured out your bucket, hanging the mop to dry on a rusted nail on a support beam. Sans made his way over, his coat covered in dirt and grass, a few gnats buzzing around his head.

Fingers dyed brown and face smudged, he was in desperate need of a change of clothes and a bath himself. You didn't see it often, but you knew sweat when you saw it.

And Sans was sweating.

He looked worn-out.

"paps making chicken?" He questioned, sniffing the air around the back door. You nodded and put your hands on your hips, head motioning to the scarecrow.

That only made him chortle. "not fond of my monolith? he's a little quiet, sure, but what can he do? he doesn't have much of a brain." His grin widened, "you two should hang out sometime. but you're not on  _ speaking terms  _ yet, huh?"

A bad jab at your unwillingness to talk didn't go over your head, your eyes rolling as Sans couldn't help but find himself the comedian.

Pushing against your back, he nudged you toward the house, careful not to get dirt on your clean clothes, "tell paps I'll take care of the chickens. gotta gossip with the girls for a minute."

Spying back at him, you ignored the way Sans stared you down--not angrily, but rather playfully--as you made your way back into the house.

Papyrus turned upon hearing the backdoor close, expecting his brother, only to find you standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"OH, UM." You weren't expecting him to stammer, to be at a loss for words, but there he was. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the egg timer in his hands before placing it on the stove. About two hours or so remained on the chicken for it to fully cook. "GOOD… JOB CLEANING THE FLOORS! SANS WAS NEVER GOOD AT IT. Always left the stains behind."

There was an awkward beat of silence between the two of you, where you were simply left standing, gazing at one another. Papyrus was quick to turn his head, poorly hiding the orange that sat on his cheeks.

"ARE YOU FEELING ANY BETTER?" Quietly, he pulled on a loose thread of his sweater, stopping himself before it unraveled.

Nodding, you stepped closer to him, your hand coming up to motion to your chest. You'd wanted to ask him about souls, if only to prove what you thought your dream was about right.

His beady eyes darted to the floor, to you, your chest, and to the kitchen window, his hands fully knotted in his shirt. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND."

It was hard to explain without using words. So instead, you made the shape of a heart using your fingers, making a squinting face after pounding your fist against your chest gently.

"DOES YOUR CHEST HURT AGAIN?" Papyrus dropped onto his knee, grabbing you by the shoulders. His apron dragged on the floor between his legs, his attention now focused solely on you.

Quickly, you shook your head.

Your chest felt better than ever! No pain, no mysterious tension! There wasn't even a hint of nausea from earlier.

"WHAT, THEN?" His grip on your arms loosened, though he didn't quite get what you meant yet.

Your mouth thinned into a line. How to explain?

Motioning to your chest, then to Papyrus, then making a mouth-talking motion with your hand, then pointing at your head, you waited for him to understand. If even a little.

"YOU WANT TO KNOW," He paused, his eyes scanning your face, "WHAT THE PAIN WAS FROM? WHY YOU WERE UNWELL?"

Nodding frantically, you watched as he stood, hands still on your shoulders. He dwarfed you, even when when hunched over, his face shadowed by the overhead light behind him. "I SUPPOSE YOU DESERVE TO KNOW."

Glancing at his egg timer, then to the back window to see Sans near the chicken coop, he relented.

Taking off his apron, he draped it on the back of one of table chairs, and motioned for you to follow him.

"IT WOULDN'T BE APPROPRIATE IN THE OPEN, KITTEN. FOLLOW ME."

Down the hall and into his room, Papyrus led you. Sitting down on his bed, you sat near the middle of the massive mattress, the skeleton shutting the door firmly before he climbed up as well.

He scooted on his knees the rest of the way, sitting on the seat of his pants with his legs under him. There was silence between you as he seemed to gather his words.

"SO…" His tiny eye lights scanned you, his voice hesitant, "HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW ABOUT SOULS?"

Not much, if anything, if you could be honest. Say you had known something about souls and how they worked, that knowledge was lost to you before you'd woken up in Papyrus' bed so many nights ago.

Shaking your head, Papyrus teetered in place a bit, his body stiff. "ALRIGHT. WELL, I," His mouth hung open as he thought, "I CAN SHOW YOU. YOUR SOUL, I MEAN. I--" Nervously, his hand came up to the back of his head, his fingers loud against his skull as he scratched.

"SOULS ARE A TOUCHY THING. THEY MAKE UP A MONSTER'S WHOLE BEING. WITH HUMANS, IT'S DIFFERENT, BUT THE SAME ALL AT ONCE." He moved a little closer, his fingers fiddling with one another, "WHEN IN A FIGHT, THE TWO CONFRONTING ONE ANOTHER WILL PRESENT THEIR SOULS. BUT OUTSIDE OF A CONFRONTATION, TO SHOW ONE'S SOUL CAN BE MORE…"

Despite him not finishing that thought, you understood the gist. To show your soul to another person outside of a fight, with monsters at the very least, was considered intimate. You were bearing your entire self at the other person.

The most raw form you could be.

Pointing at your chest and nodding your head, Papyrus' expression fell, his skull a deep orange, "I HAVE SEEN YOUR SOUL BEFORE, YES. ONCE WHEN I FOUND YOU, AND AGAIN THIS MORNING." His hands found the comforter, squeezing it tightly, "I CAN SHOW YOU. HOLD STILL."

Lessening the space between you again, he crossed his legs and readied his hand, arm outstretched toward you. His palm landed gently on your sternum, and with a gentle tug, his hand moved away.

A sudden pull echoed through your chest, the feeling of something moving inside your ribs as a glow emanated under his fingers.

In a few seconds, his hand pulled further, a small, bright, almost cartoonish heart popping into view. Your eyes widened at the sight, the heart illuminating your face.

It was exactly what you'd seen in your dream.

Its color was vibrant, tinted just a faint orange around the edges that you hardly made it out until you stared more closely. Papyrus simply watched your reaction, gauging how you took to seeing your soul for, potentially, the first time.

He was finding it hard to control himself.

"YOUR SOUL, WHEN I FOUND YOU, WAS DAMAGED. RIGHT HERE." He pointed to the heart with a long finger, indicating a section where the color was just slightly dimmer. You'd never have noticed it if he hadn't said something. "THERE WAS A… HOLE THERE."

You froze.

Your dream.

It wasn't a dream, was it? Could it have been?

What if it had been a memory from the recesses of your mind, just waiting to resurface when provided the right information to connect the dots.

A sudden sense of déjà vu washed over you.

"I HEALED YOU THE FIRST TIME, WHEN SANS AND I FOUND YOU IN MY NET TRAP. WE DIDN'T KNOW HOW YOU'D GOTTEN THERE, OR WHERE YOU CAME FROM." His hand dropped away from your soul, but his eyes never left, "WE JUST KNEW YOU NEEDED HELP."

Letting the quiet settle for a moment, Papyrus' body relaxed, if only a little, "THIS MORNING, THE HOLE WAS BACK. I IMAGINE THAT'S WHY YOU PASSED OUT." Suddenly, his look turned guilty, "I NOTICED THERE WAS SOMETHING OFF WHEN YOU AND SANS RETURNED. I SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING THEN."

Your soul began to flutter, responding to the distress that was trying to overtake you. Your dream hadn't been a dream. It couldn't have been.

The man in Orange. He'd hurt you, potentially made you forget who you were, damaged your soul in such a way that it couldn't be quite fully healed.

You were stricken with fear.

Quickly, Papyrus motioned at your soul and moved it back toward you. He all but forced it into your chest where it belonged.

His hand lingered against you, almost as if making sure the little heart didn't come floating out again. He towered over you, and waited until he felt your real heart begin to calm, your face angled up to watch him.

Satisfied, he sighed and sat back, his hand still touching you. "YOU'RE OKAY NOW. SANS AND I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU. EVEN IF IT MEANS FINDING OUT WHO," His hand shifted from the center of your chest, up, sitting at the junction of your neck and shoulder, "DID THIS TO YOU."

Raising your own hand, you pointed at Papyrus' chest, to the center where his ribs met, "MY SOUL? YOU WANT TO SEE MINE?" If his face wasn't a deep orange before, it was now.

With a hint of hesitation, he moved his hand away from you and to his own chest, both his hands making a pulling motion. Out came a bright, white heart, flipped upside-down so the point faced up toward the ceiling.

It was like yours, but didn't shine with any particular color. Still, it was beautiful all the same--white like fresh snow, dotted with small cracks and fissures long since healed across its surface.

Slowly, you reached out and barely ran a finger along it, noting the way Papyrus froze at your touch. He went ramrod straight, his hands clutched at his pants legs.

"MONSTER SOULS ARE DIFFERENT." He clarified quickly, his hands moving to keep themselves busy. Anything to keep him from reaching out and grabbing you, or holding your hands against his soul.

He couldn't deny it felt good for someone to touch it. Not clinically like a doctor or his brother when he'd gotten hurt. But innocently, tenderly, more full of heart than just a standard examination.

Your hands roved over the glass-like surface until you cupped the upside-down heart in your palms. It emanated a strange heat, white hot and beating soundly like a full, organic heart would.

It was strange.

Curious, you ran your thumb along one of the healed grooves that ran from top to bottom, your nail catching on a crack.

Suddenly, Papyrus pulled you forward, yanking you by the shoulders until you collided with him. The white heart pressed against your chest as he held you to him, his shoulders shaking.

Had you hurt him?

Had you managed to accidentally--

You froze, your head cocked to the side awkwardly as he kept you close to his chest.

He was nuzzling you.

Face pressed against your throat, Papyrus ran his bony cheek against yours, the ridge of his nose rubbing at your temple.

You laughed quietly when you felt his teeth slide across your skin, but remained calm as his arms coiled over your shoulders almost protectively. There was a sense of longing there, an uncontrollable want to hold and to touch.

Perhaps he'd been oversensitive.

He had told you souls made up a monster's entire being. And yet there you were, touching it with wild abandon like it didn't matter. It was no wonder he'd responded the way he had.

You hoped you hadn't insulted him somehow.

Holding you against him, the heat from the heart pressed between the two of you burned into your chest, but not in an unpleasant way. Coupled with how he was currently cuddling you, his teeth pressed against your cheek, you felt as though what you'd done might have been more intimate than you'd meant.

Regardless, you laughed quietly as the feeling subsided a bit, the heat against your chest replaced with a soft hum instead.

You found you enjoyed being there, held against him, nearly sitting in his lap. The way his jagged teeth, though sharp, barely scratched at the skin of your throat, his eye sockets closed tightly as he tried in vain not to hurt you by accident.

Roving up through the space between your chests, you grabbed at the heart and pulled it away from you, gently holding it in your hand. Papyrus only moved closer to you, his teeth pressed at the corner of your mouth when you touched his soul directly.

If you hadn't known any better, you'd say a skeleton was trying his damndest to kiss you and not kiss you at the same time.

Maybe that's how monsters did it.

So gentle, his teeth pressed against your cheek, you were surprised by the softness of his voice, "Kitten, I--"

Removing Papyrus' soul from against your chest and simply holding it, there came a sudden, violent crash from inside the closet.

Instinctively, Papyrus was quick to jump from the bed, his soul shooting back into his chest. He threw open the door to he closet, finding his old battle body costume strewn on the floor from where it'd fallen.

Or had it been knocked down?

Remaining on the bed, you tried to look around him, but saw nothing save a dark closet. Shakily, his shoulders rose and fell heavily, startled from the embrace he'd been enjoying.

"MUST HAVE BEEN A MOUSE." Papyrus surmised, the only excuse he could think of coming to mind. He knew for a fact his old armor was positioned on the shelf near the ceiling, pushed toward the wall to prevent it from rolling.

Something didn't sit right.

Regardless, he couldn't look back at you, his face on fire as he was memorising the way your body felt, the heat of your skin against his bones.

He hardly heard the door to his room open.

\--

Sans ducked out of the coop just as Lydian gave him a few good pecks to the head. If it wasn't for her being Papyrus' favorite chicken, he would have eaten her in a heartbeat a long time ago.

He'd done it to countless other chickens. Problem was, Papyrus named that particular one, which complicated things a bit.

Lazily, he shook the feathers from his coat and kicked off the muck caked to his shoes, wiping them in the dirt. Under his arm, he carried a bowl of eggs, all mixed and matched colors of white, brown, and blue.

He'd sent you inside about thirty minutes ago, enough time for him to gather the eggs from the coop, lock everything down, and hug a rather ornery hen.

If Lydian didn't want hugs, then Sans was perfectly fine not giving them.

Placing the bowl in the grass, he locked the coop up for the night, his mind focused on the world around him. It would never do him any good to relax out in the open, even now that they weren't Underground.

The fireflies were numerous that night. They flitted through the woods every few seconds, small dots in the darkness.

The small, red lights moving along with them didn't go unnoticed.

Sans' shoulders hunched around his jaw, his teeth smashed against one another.

There was a monster in the woods. Watching. Waiting.

And if the red pin pricks were any indication, it was either Red or Black, and the latter of the two wouldn't waste time sitting in the woods--he'd rather stomp his way through the yard, screaming as loud as he could for attention.

Under the pretense he didn't see the red lights move through the foliage, Sans was more than keenly aware of every sound, every branch, every noise that emanated from the other side of the clearing.

There were two of them, from the sounds of it.

The heavier footfalls would have been Red, but that left whoever was with him. Edge, perhaps? There was hardly a moment where the two brothers hadn't been together, though things might have changed since Sans and his brother left the main house.

The egg bowl gathered under his arml, Sans stomped back to the house, and ignored the red eye lights in the woods.

If that bastard copy wanted at Kitten, he'd have to try a hell of a lot harder than that.

Once inside, he placed the bowl on the kitchen table and ignored the delicious smell coming from the oven. He set about closing all the blinds through the house, checking and double checking each of them. There weren't many they left open at night, save the one in the kitchen and maybe the living room, but he was quick to bring them all down and close them.

If Red wanted to snoop around, he'd have to step into the lion's den himself. Him and whoever he was with.

Scanning to make sure everything was closed, Sans made a quick patrol of the house, hearing Papyrus attempt to talk quietly in his room.

You must have been in there with him.

With that thought, Sans relaxed a little, less worried you'd gone back outside. Less worried that Red might have got his grubby phalanges on you.

Sans didn't know what he'd do if they took you from Papyrus.

Oh, wait, yes, he did. He'd crack every rib and vertebrae in the body of whoever took you, dust them, eat them if he was so inclined. Show the main house not to touch his… rather, their things.

Human. Their human. Not thing.

Still didn't mean Red could have at you.

Ensuring the doors were locked and bolted, he made one last round through the front of the cabin, ensuring his anxiety the windows were locked as well.

Sure, Red had magic, but any monster could sense when someone blipped in and out of existence for a second. It didn't take much, especially now when Sans could do it himself.

Making his way down the hall, he crept up to Papyrus' door. With one quick knock, his brother invited him in, you seated on the bed and Papyrus peering inside his closet.

That wasn't peculiar at all.

Neither was the blatant blush on your face as you stared down at the bed.

"what's up, bro?" Sans asked, stepping into the room fully. He glanced at you, and held back a laugh as he noticed you wouldn't look at him.

And neither would his brother.

What happened between you two?

\--

Next chapter!

A KITTEN BY ANY OTHER NAME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FANART:
> 
> https://twitter.com/Michell99556779/status/1132725957779963904?s=19
> 
> https://twitter.com/EsuercVoltimand/status/1132400953825648640?s=19
> 
> https://twitter.com/JukoVon/status/1129793118587445248?s=19


	11. A Kitten by Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red realises he has something to do, and has to figure out a way to get you back.
> 
> But it's not going to be easy

\--

Chapter 11: A Kitten By Any Other Name

\--

A massive tree came tumbling down in the middle of the woods, Mutt leaning nonchalantly against another as he watched Red decimate several more innocent flora.

For all Mutt knew, the other monster had shortcut his way into the Crooked Brothers' house about twenty minutes ago, telling him to stay put outside. It wasn't until about five minutes ago, that Red appeared back out in the woods, his face lit up, and eye blazing.

Without a word, he began to take out his anger on the innocent plants in the forest.

Whatever happened inside to make Red act that way must have been something else. If anything, Mutt knew you must have been inside, and alive at the very least.

The fallout was immediate.

\--

The house was mostly quiet when Red shortcut inside. He'd been quick about it, watching Axe run this way and that to close the blinds on all the windows.

"guilty fucker, what are you hidin'?" Red mumbled to himself, firmly secreted away in Crooks' closet once he blipped from the living room. It was the only place in the house, aside from Crooks' room, that Axe hadn't gone into, and even then it might have been a poor choice.

Initially, he didn't know where he was going to pop out, hoping he'd remembered the layout of the house from when he was in there last. Thankfully, he only barely scraped the wall of the closet, the ridge of his nose sore when he pulled back.

Just outside the door, Red could hear Crooks speak, though he'd admit he was somewhat surprised by the volume of the usually loud Papyrus. Even Edge struggled to take his voice down from one-hundred and fifty decibels.

The door to the closet was only slightly ajar, a boon as Red sidled up and angled his one lit eyelight out into the room.

His soul nearly dropped.

"I HAVE SEEN YOUR SOUL BEFORE, YES. ONCE WHEN I FOUND YOU, AND AGAIN THIS MORNING." Crooks told someone… no.

Not just someone.

There you were, on the bed with _that_ monster, the fucking people-eater, and you didn't even bat an eye.

But Red hardly thought that.

You were there, right **there**. Right as rain, no worse for wear, intact, and alive.

He'd been right.

He knew he'd smelled you in there, knew your scent anywhere. You even had the bracelet he'd gotten you on your wrist, the one with "Kitten" pressed deep into the metal.

A small smile split across his face, one of relief and happiness. The darkness of the closet hid the obviously giddy look in his eyes, and the flush of his cheeks.

A bead of sweat ran down Red's face. Or at least he told himself it was sweat. No one needed to know he cried, much less himself. It was only a tear.

Just a little one. Enough that it kept him grounded. Enough that he knew this wasn't some kind of sick dream.

Or maybe it was.

He watched Crooks quirk his head at you, his cheeks orange from the magic coursing through him. What did he get to blush about?

"I CAN SHOW YOU. HOLD STILL."

Wait. No. _Don't_. **_Don't do that_** , Red thought, his mind shouting at him.

Red's smile fell as he now glared through the crack in the door, his fingers scraping at his palms.

Lessening the space, Crooks crossed his legs and readied his hand, arm outstretched toward you. His palm landed gently on your sternum, and with a light tug, his hand moved away.

In a few seconds, his hand pulled a small, bright, almost cartoonish heart into view.

Red clenched his hands within the pockets of his coat at the sight of your soul. It illuminated your face, one he'd stared at so much, so often, even when you didn't know. One he'd fallen asleep next to, kissed, pinched the cheek of until you were the color of a beet.

Not even he'd gotten to see your soul, and there you were, letting some… _fuckin' human-eating freak_ touch it. After being missing for days, you'd been holed up with Crooks and Axe doing--Red didn't know what to think. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, didn't want his anger to control him like it did earlier with Stretch.

But he couldn't look away from the vibrant colors of your soul, noting immediately the orange tint surrounding it. At first, he thought the worst: you'd bonded to Crooks or even Stretch, that the magic sitting on that little heart was much more serious.

But there was too much of it there, nearly blocking the main color of the heart under it--healing magic, Red knew. A shit-ton of it, too.

That was enough to relax him a bit, though not much.

"YOUR SOUL, WHEN I FOUND YOU, WAS DAMAGED. RIGHT HERE." Crooks pointed to the heart with a long finger, indicating a section where the color was just slightly dimmer. "THERE WAS A… HOLE THERE."

Red froze.

 _Stretch_.

That fucking bastard hadn't just confronted you, he'd nearly killed you. He'd admitted as much himself back before they threw him in his room to stew.

What kind of monster impaled someone's soul without the intent to kill, himself notwithstanding?

This wasn't the Underground. You two weren't meeting in the Judgement Hall, about ready to throw down. You hadn't dusted anyone. All you'd done was let Blue get a little closer than what Stretch wanted, gave him a fucking boo-boo, and he flipped shit.

Red knew personally, all the Judges did, what a damaged soul looked like, what that could and would do to a human. You were lucky to still be alive, though he began to worry at your lack of response.

Why weren't you saying anything? Why weren't you talking back to Crooks? If you'd been talkative before you disappeared, there was certainly something very wrong with how quiet you were now.

What else had Stretch done to you?

 _Red just wanted to hear your voice again_.

But he also wanted to know why Axe and Crooks hadn't said anything to them back at the main house. Sure, the other monsters didn't really let it be known they had a human living with them on the property (for obvious reasons), but still.

Did you run away after the fight with Stretch? Were you trying to get some alone time? Why would you take it out on all of them, and not just Ashtray?

It had to have been Axe. He was already trying to block off anyone from coming into the house before tonight, and Red smelled your scent in Crooks' room during that time.

Axe was probably trying to keep you to himself and Crooks. If ever there was a moment he could take his anger out on the main house, this would be it. He'd take what was precious to them with a laugh.

"I HEALED YOU THE FIRST TIME, WHEN SANS AND I FOUND YOU IN MY NET TRAP. WE DIDN'T KNOW HOW YOU'D GOTTEN THERE, OR WHERE YOU CAME FROM."

Red found it odd Crooks referred to Axe as Sans. Typically, none of the skeletons aside from Vanilla bothered calling themselves Sans when others were present. And even then, it was so ingrained at that point, many of them enjoyed their nicknames.

But that was besides the fact.

That's what happened with you, then. After the fallout with Stretch, your soul being stabbed straight through. Ashtray mentioned he'd left you out in the woods after your confrontation, that you hadn't been there when the coward finally decided to go back.

How delirious were you, hobbling around the woods with probably a sliver of HP left? You probably didn't even know where the hell you were anymore, much less who you were. If you'd been a monster, you were probably close to "falling down."

You couldn't LOAD like the Fallen Human in the Underground. You were sentenced by a coward Judge and left to rot, betrayed by someone you used to trust with your life.

Maybe you hadn't gone to the Crooked Brothers by choice? You'd been lucky enough to have been found after being hurt so badly.

Red's marrow boiled.

He leaned further into the door, his eye zeroed in on your face. It was obvious you were distressed, he knew from the way you chewed at your bottom lip, how your gaze seemed to unfocus.

He knew that look all too well.

"WE JUST KNEW YOU NEEDED HELP." Crooks finished. Letting the quiet settle for a moment, he relaxed, if only a little, "THIS MORNING, THE HOLE WAS BACK. I IMAGINE THAT'S WHY YOU PASSED OUT." Suddenly, his look turned guilty, "I NOTICED THERE WAS SOMETHING OFF WHEN YOU AND SANS RETURNED. I SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING THEN."

That's why Red hadn't seen you. You'd been out next to the monster with a hole in his skull doing stars knows what all night.

But you looked alright, aside from the small mar on your soul. You appeared to have all your fingers, no weird marks.

Red really hoped Axe hadn't touched you.

Suddenly, you were stricken with fear, he noticed. A deer-in-headlights look took over your face, your eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. Maybe you'd realised something, maybe you were going to respond, say _something_.

Quickly, Crooks motioned at your soul and moved it back toward you. He all but forced it into your chest where it belonged.

Red immediately wanted to see it again.

Crooks' hand lingered against you, almost as if making sure the little heart didn't come floating out against its better judgement . He towered over you, and waited until he felt your real heart begin to calm, your face angled up to watch him.

More than anything, Red grew more angry. He didn't want Crooks touching you: not your skin, your soul, not your anything. He didn't have the fucking right. And it wasn't a feeling exclusive to the Crooked Brothers.

He didn't mind Edge or even Blue being near you. Hell, anyone in the main house, really. He trusted them all to keep you safe, respect your boundaries and wishes.

Mutt was an exception--even if Red told him to fuck off, the glorified Dog would take it literally. But Stretch? There was something sketchy about him since day one.

Crooks sighed and sat back, his hand still touching you. "YOU'RE OKAY NOW. SANS AND I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU. EVEN IF IT MEANS FINDING OUT WHO," His hand shifted from the center of your chest, up, sitting at the junction of your neck and shoulder, "DID THIS TO YOU."

Red could answer that question easily, and with two words.

 _Fucking Stretch_. There, mystery solved.

Raising your hand, you pointed at Crooks' chest, to the center where his ribs met, "MY SOUL? YOU WANT TO SEE MINE?"

_Don't you fucking dare._

Red tried his best to restrain himself, his teeth gnashed and fists tight. If you still had your soul out, he would have flung the door open, nipped all this in the bud, and carried you back home.

He'd throw you over his shoulder, if he had to.

Mutt could take up the rear.

With a hint of hesitation, Crooks moved his hand away from you and to his own chest, both his hands making a pulling motion. Out came a bright, white heart, flipped upside-down so the point faced up toward the ceiling.

Red scratched at his sternum at the sight. Crooks' soul was damaged, too, far beyond what most monsters could take, much like his own.

Too conscientious of his own soul, Red doubted he would have been as brave as Crooks to reveal his to a girl he barely knew, much less one he'd known for over a year.

That was a subject even Red was too afraid to broach yet.

You hadn't secretly known Axe and Crooks, did you?

Red's one eyelight burnt out as Crooks froze at your touch, your fingers gliding along the upside-down heart nonchalantly.

You were touching him.

Just touching him like it was no big deal. Like you didn't know what souls meant to monsters.

"MONSTER SOULS ARE DIFFERENT." Crooks clarified quickly, his hands moving to keep themselves busy. Red knew how it must have felt, that white-hot heat he got in his pelvis when he touched his owl soul.

He couldn't begin to imagine what it felt like when you did it. When _his_ Kitten did it.

Your hands roved over the glass-like surface until you cupped the upside-down heart in your palms. Curious, you ran your thumb along one of the healed grooves that ran from top to bottom, your nail catching on a crack.

Suddenly, Crooks pulled you forward, yanking you by the shoulders until you collided with him. The white heart pressed against your chest as he held you to him, his shoulders shaking.

Red nearly jumped from the closet to stop him.

You froze, your head cocked to the side awkwardly as he kept you close to his chest.

Crooks was nuzzling you.

Face pressed against your throat, he ran his bony cheek against yours, the ridge of his nose rubbing at your temple.

Inside his chest, Red felt a familiar surge of anger build up.

But he didn't move from his spot, didn't let his anger control him even as he watched you smile awkwardly.

You laughed quietly when Crooks' teeth slid across your skin, but remained calm as his arms coiled over your shoulders almost protectively.

You'd touched a monster's soul--petted, fondled it--so it was no wonder the larger monster had pulled you in. You'd practically gotten to second or third base. Red wouldn't admit he was jealous. Never.

Holding you against him, Crooks' teeth pressed against your cheek in a mock kiss. Red knew for a fact with the way the other skeleton's face was rearranged via a pissed-off fish woman, there was no way Crooks would try his luck, not with those teeth.

Regardless, you laughed quietly as he continued, completely unaware of the monster hiding in the closet peeping in on you.

You were nearly sitting in Crooks' lap now, seated between his legs, almost on his pelvis. It was nearly enough for Red to say fuck it and ruin the moment.

But he had to be careful. With the way Crooks' jagged teeth barely scratched at the skin of your throat, his eye sockets closed tightly as he tried in vain not to hurt you by accident, it was a gamble.

Red knew if he popped out now, he risked hurting you in the process, despite how much his own soul was lashing out.

Roving up through the space between your chests, you grabbed at the heart and pulled it away from you, gently holding it in your hand. Crooks only moved closer to you, his teeth pressed at the corner of your mouth when you touched his soul directly.

So gentle, his teeth pressed against your cheek, Red could hardly hear the softness of Crooks' voice, "Kitten, I--"

Red snapped.

Striking the wall hard with a fist, he tore through the closet before he shortcut his way back into the woods outside.

Crooks called you "Kitten".

 _Kitten_.

**_Kitten._ **

You weren't Crooks' Kitten. You weren't Axe's. You weren't Blue's, or Stretch's, or Mutt's, Black's, Vanilla's, or even Edge's.

You were his.

 _His Kitten_.

And that's when the tree had to pay the price.

Mutt only watched as Red tore through that part of the forest, taking his pent-up anger out on the innocent plants. A dog treat between his teeth, he chuckled a bit at the smaller skeleton's outburst.

If Mutt could read the room right, he guessed Red saw you inside.

The onslaught continued for several more minutes until at last Red stood in the middle of a clearing, several trees downed around him, the brush charred with released magic. Several, large, red bones were lodged into the ground, dyeing the scene a bright red.

And he still had plenty to spare.

Mutt came up behind him, throwing the remains of his dog treat onto the charred soil. With the amount of carnage around them, he was surprised a Blaster hadn't torn through the foliage.

"i take it y/n was in there?" Mutt questioned almost condescendingly, having already known the answer based solely on Red's response.

There was a moment of quiet before Red spoke up, his shoulders tight and mouth a thin line, "i'm goin' to fuckin' grillby's."

Left alone after the smaller monster shortcut away, Mutt chuckled quietly. There must have been something inside that got under Red's ribs.

You must have been alive and well if the house was still standing. If it were anything else, there wouldn't be anything left of the cabin.

He took a quick look at the small house in the clearing, noting the light in Crooks' room go out just after a large shadow crossed it. Maybe he'd go take a gander himself, see what the fuss was all about.

Or he could go to Grillby's and get Red to tell him what happened.

It didn't take long for him to come to a decision.

And a moment later, the clearing was empty.

\--

Out on the couch, you snuggled beneath the warmth of the thick quilt thrown over you. Nestled, your face was hidden, buried into the soft fabric as you tried your best to fall asleep.

Despite having slept most of the day, you couldn't help but feel a sense of fatigue take over you. It was a mental exhaustion, not physical, and it was becoming apparent that you weren't going to be sleeping soon.

After what happened earlier with Papyrus, it was hard to slow your mind down at all.

When Sans walked into the room, there had been a very obvious tension in the air. Not a bad kind of electricity, though enough that Sans did a double take between you and his brother.

It was obvious something happened with you two when he wasn't there. But neither of you spoke about it, the blushes on your faces enough to dissuade Sans from asking any questions.

And even after Sans left, you and Papyrus didn't say any more on the matter, the skeleton meekly rubbing the back of his neck when he stared at you. It wasn't a bad look, but one that said "I liked what I did, but I'm too afraid to admit it right now".

You'd liked it, too, and the small smile you gave Papyrus said it all.

You turned over and faced the television, the black of the curved screen greeting you. The small, digital clock of the VHS player blinked 12:00 repeatedly, so you were unsure as to how late it actually was.

Maybe you could go outside, get some air on the porch, or maybe you could simply stay where you were and attempt to get a channel to come in to the old tube television.

You weren't sure if you could watch another Mettaton VHS right now.

With an arm curled over the slope of the couch, you grabbed the controller from the end table and brought the TV to life, the room bathed in harsh white noise.

For several minutes, you watched the white and black static as you flipped through the channels manually. Every so often, you could make out audio somewhere in the background, like a ghost, but no such luck on an actual video yet.

It wasn't until you landed in one of the lower numbers that a grainy image appeared. Bright colors flashed on the screen followed by a banner announcing the annual Ebott Spring Festival.

Several human children ran across the screen, followed by monster children, all waving pennants dotted with flowers and leaves. The festival promised games, food, and other activities between monsters and humans alike.

Two white… you assumed they may have been goat monsters, appeared on screen, regally dressed with a small child standing before them. You knew in the back of your mind who they were, but the names and faces escaped you. They were connected to the glyph you saw in town a few days ago, the golden one with the wings.

Pulling the quilt up to your ears, you watched as the commercial ended, and continued onto an infomercial. Something about cooking everything with soda, an older human woman with dyed red hair.

You didn't want to know what a "dump cake" was.

But your mind was stuck on one thing now, and it wasn't Papyrus' attempt to kiss you: the Spring Festival.

You wondered if Sans and Papyrus had ever been. They didn't seem to get out much aside from when they went to get supplies, and even then Papyrus had been wary.

Perhaps, you could convince one of the brothers to take you, get them out of the house for a little while to enjoy the weather as it began to warm up. Try to get them to socialize.

It couldn't be healthy to stay locked away on a mountain with no one to talk to, aside from yourself. It would do them some good to get out for a little while--if not for them, then for you.

You could even visit the police station while you were in town, see if there were any bulletins or missing persons reports about you.

That would get the ball rolling on finding out just what you'd forgotten.

You continued to watch the infomercials until you finally fell asleep, the screen flashing even as you slipped under.

You never did notice the one red eye watching you from the hall.

\--

Grillby was not a babysitter.

He was not a shoulder to cry on.

And he certainly wasn't the town therapist.

He was a bartender, a fire elemental, and a sharp whip when he wanted to be.

And the two skeletons sitting at his counter were blitzed out of their skulls, one of whom with his face against the bar top. They'd come in earlier that evening, one of the two causing a ruckus until Greater Dog sat him down less than gently at the bar.

Red. One of Sans' "cousins" from out of town.

Sure, _Grillby believed that one_. Along with the other two groups of cousins, all of whom had one brother to them each, and occasionally slipped up and called each other Sans and Papyrus. Of course.

 _Cousins_.

But Grillby let it pass. If there was one thing he learned about Sans, it was to never ask questions. He didn't back in Snowdin, and he certainly wouldn't in Ebott.

Though that didn't mean he had to put up with drunks in his pub.

The one called Mutt fiddled with the leftover fries on his plate, two empty glasses of what used to be something strong in front of him. Red, on the other hand, had several bottles, emptied and dotted around a plate covered in something dark yellow and green.

Grillby made a mental note to order more mustard and relish.

When the two skeletons came in a few hours prior, the pub was alive with activity. The dog patrol was playing their usual game of cards, the jukebox was loud, the tables and booths filled with monsters and a scattering of humans alike.

Now? It was Mutt, Red, and Ice wolf, the latter of the three seated at the far end of the bar, away from the other two. He appeared agitated, annoyed with the antics of the two skeleton monsters throughout the night.

Grillby would be closing shop soon, and there was still plenty to take care of before he could do even that. Most important of which: get the inebriated skeletons out and on their way back home.

 _He was not a babysitter_.

Red didn't move as Grillby took his plate, empty drinks, and used-up bottle of mustard. He didn't respond even as Mutt tapped a few fingers against the top of his skull.

He'd been like that since they got there. Despondent and out of sorts. Whatever he saw inside the Crooked Brothers' house broke him, and now he was taking it out on himself.

Mutt, however, learned that you'd been inside, alive, and on Crooks' bed as he revealed your soul to you. At first, he wanted to make a sex joke, but decided against it when Red refused to stop blathering. That, and the way Grillby stared the both of them down for their volume.

Apparently, and this was said in a whisper as Grillby watched, your soul had a hole in it, healed by Crooks after they found you. Red wasn't sure if you even knew who you were or where you were at--something that worried him greatly.

What if the brothers in the woods were taking advantage of you?

But that wasn't all. Mutt knew Red's deeply-mired affection for you, the pet name he used, the way he went about flaunting it. Crooks calling you Kitten was the last straw that led to him destroying several woodland creatures' homes before they ended up at Grillby's.

For almost an hour, as the drinks piled up, Red spouted several ideas on how to get you back, how to bring you home: drag you there, politely ask, convince you of who he was or had been to you.

One even involved a fight between himself, Crooks, and Axe, but that would never turn out well.

Mutt just let him talk. Either Red got it out now or he'd do it in front of the others when he got home.

 _Home_.

Mutt shot up from his seat, and fiddled with one of the pockets of his long coat. His phone appeared before him, stating the late hour on the lock screen.

He'd told Black he wouldn't stay out late. And there he was, drinking to his heart's content into the early hours of the morning.

Panicked, he pushed Red's shoulder roughly, jostling the skeleton enough that he opened his eyes grumpily.

Red's one eyelight blurred into focus as he growled at Mutt, his sharpened teeth bared at him.

"No fighting in my bar." Grillby was quick to stop them as he appeared from the back room, his brogue deep as he angled a clean towel toward them. "I'm cutting him off."

Mutt paid no mind to Grillby's words as he fished out a few coins. They clinked against the counter before he gave one last push against Red, vanishing from sight the next second.

Red straightened himself out and snorted, his movements slow and sluggish from the drink. Bringing his hands up, he placed them on top of his head and stared down at the bar.

He was perfectly fine letting Mutt leave. He'd go on his own terms or Grillby would kick him to the curb. Either way, that's when he'd get moving.

For now, Grillby cleaned up Mutt's mess and deposited the gold left haphazardly on the counter. A few more minutes, and he'd tell the other skeleton to shove off, too. He had to prepare for the festival that upcoming weekend, and he needed his sleep.

Red didn't get it, still. He was trying his best to wrap his mind around it all. From Stretch, to Axe and Crooks, to you potentially not knowing who you were.

He didn't know what to do.

There was the logical approach: get Edge or one of the others like Vanilla's brother, and have them come with him to the Crooked House. Then there was the Red approach: just bust in there and take you back.

But what would you think if he did that? If you truly didn't remember, he would just be some nutjob breaking into a house and kidnapping a human.

He  didn't want you to think he was some kind of monster.

Figuratively. Not literally.

Well, literally, but only in bed.

Red sighed and sifted through his pocket, producing some coins to pay for his drinks. His tab was already too high as it was, and in his inebriated state, the last thing he needed was Grillby hanging that over him.

From the stool, he shuffled toward the door, his hood pulled up over his head. He wanted some fresh air before he returned home, before Edge had a chance to chew him out for drinking heavily again.

Out into the street, he walked. The roads were barren save a few cars that drove slowly through town. There were some police officers positioned on the corner of the boulevard in their old rustbucket, one human and the other a monster.

Red doubted it was this timeline's Undyne. It was rare she took the night shift if it meant being away from her fiance. And for that, he was grateful.

Perhaps he'd only get one pissed-off monster on his tail.

Above him, the banners dotting the street waved lightly in the night wind, already displayed for the coming festival. No doubt, most of the monsters that gathered around Ebott would be there this weekend, the King and Queen included. But that also meant some of the other skeletons would make an appearance, as well. Those that didn't live with them anymore.

Red shook his head. _Fantastic_ , he thought.

That meant G and his brother might come by, pry into their lives, and make himself at home in their house. He remembered what happened last time: G had tried to come onto you after a few drinks, only to get caught in a drunken duel with Black. The backyard was a mess after that, Papyrus' precious flower beds ruined in the scuffle.

Neither of them came out the victor, both Mutt and Green making sure their brothers were pulled back in time. Didn't stop you from sticking close to Red the rest of the night, though.

That was going to be a hard one to explain, if G and Green came by.

_"Oh, where's y/n? Don't tell me she got smart and left."_

_"Nah, one of us just tried to kill her, left her in the woods, and let her get picked up by the people-eaters. It's whatever. She's a big girl."_

Red needed to do something about you soon. He didn't want anything to happen to you, if anything **were** to happen. He didn't trust Axe or Crooks as far as he could throw them, and he certainly didn't want Axe thinking he could keep you to himself.

Red seesawed on the idea of telling the others where you were. If he did, they all could head to the cabin and explain the situation, take you back without a fuss, and get you looked at.

If he didn't, however, he could throw more guilt on Stretch's shoulders once he revealed where you were, bring you home himself.

Red wasn't one to boast about "look what I managed to do that you couldn't", but it was tempting. All he knew right now was that he needed to calm down and come back with a clearer head.

Regardless, you needed help, and not necessarily in the physical sense. Crooks said your soul had a hole in it twice now, once when he found you, and again yesterday morning. That wasn't something any one of them could fully treat. You needed an expert, someone who specialized in that field.

That hole was only going to come back the longer you went without a professional looking at it.

Someone like Green.

Red stopped in his tracks.

If he could get you back home, get Green to look at you the weekend of the festival, maybe everything would work out.

You would be back to your normal self.

That didn't help out with the issue concerning Stretch, but they would just have to keep you away from him for the time being.

Red took a few more steps down the street, before he tore a hole in space and landed outside the main house. He'd decide in the morning what path he would take. Either he got the others to help him bring you back, or he did it himself.

He was unsure of how he wanted to approach the situation. All he knew, at the very least, was that he was happy you were alive, probably asleep not too far from home.

Shrugging, Red approached the house and took out his key. Most of the lights were still on, even in the early hours of the morning. He could simply shortcut his way inside, but he'd already used a great deal of his magic clearing a plot of land earlier and then making his way from the pub.

The living room lights blinded him as he stepped inside, the sound of Mutt getting a talking-to in the kitchen by the boisterous Black alerting him to company.

You'd think one wouldn't be intimidated by a short skeleton in a robe and fuzzy slippers, but Mutt was practically on his hands and knees in apology, his hood pushed back and forehead against the floor.

That, or he ended up that way from his own drunkenness.

Up the stairs, Red stomped, shucking his coat off as he went. Down the hall, he spied your door, closed and untouched.

He was still unused to seeing your light off.

Making his way to his own room, Red stumbled when a door to his left flew open. There, in the doorway, stood Edge, dressed in his nightly best, face set in a deep scowl.

"GRILLBY'S AGAIN, I TAKE IT?" Edge stepped out into the hall, straight into Red's space, "BLACK HAS BEEN YELLING AT MUTT FOR THIRTY MINUTES NOW, AND SOME OF US WOULD LIKE TO SLEEP."

There came a loud banging in the next room over, followed by a loud "MWEH" through the wall. Red glanced at Blue's door, his skull scrunched up.

He wasn't surprised to see Stretch's light on across the hall.

"WELL?" Edge crossed his arms, the silk of his nightshirt bunched up around his chest.

"yeah, yeah, I was at grillbz. just needed to get my mind off something." Red leaned against the wall awkwardly, his brother glaring him down.

A thought came to Red suddenly. He spied up at his brother, a bead of sweat on his brow. "actually, lemme tell you somethin' I learned about kitten."

Edge's sockets narrowed suspiciously, "WHAT ABOUT Y/N? WE HAVEN'T DECIDED WHAT TO DO WITH STRETCH YET, AND YOU ARE BEING OF NO HELP--"

A line of "shhs" left Red, his hands flailing to get his brother to quiet down. "not so fuckin' loud." His eyelight traveled to Stretch's door, where a faint shadow could be seen just under it.

Red pushed himself from the wall and walked up to Edge, turning him in place to go back into his room, "just get in and we'll talk. the walls have ears and shit."

The door closed behind them, leaving the hall empty. The sound of Black quieted from downstairs, small thuds indicating he was finally returning to bed in the guest room.

And though his own room had been magically sealed, Stretch couldn't help but overhear the beginnings of Red and Edge's conversation before they scarpered away.

Something about you.

Stretch pulled himself from his door and took a few steps back. He'd been in there since yesterday afternoon, willingly imprisoned for what he'd done. It pained him not to respond to his own brother, but he struggled to come up with any kind of excuse for the questions he asked.

It was easier to say nothing at all.

Sitting back on his unmade bed, Stretch kicked at a plate left on the floor, dinner brought up to him by Papyrus earlier that evening. He hadn't wanted to eat it, anxiety gnawing at his bones, but he couldn't let it rot when he didn't have any means of getting out.

He fell back against the mattress with a thud, his sockets closed tiredly. Sleep eluded him no matter how hard he tried, even given his own tiredness. His magic was low, almost as low as his HP, and even then his mind wouldn't stop racing.

They would have to do something with him soon, but they had no physical proof that he'd done what he'd done. They had testimony, word of mouth, nothing that could be taken to the King and Queen. And even then, if word got out that multiple timelines had converged, forcing various versions of Sans and Papyrus to be caught in one, there would be an investigation.

Something none of them needed.

No, whatever happened to Stretch would be taken care of internally, away from Toriel and Asgore, much less the human police.

Tensions ran high with monsters and humans in many places, and they didn't need to add more fuel to the fire.

Stretch ran his phalanges across his eyes, the heels of his palms sitting over his closed sockets.

Whatever happened, happened.

And whatever punishment he got, he deserved.

_He shouldn't have gotten jealous._


	12. River Retreat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axe and Red finally get to duke it out, and Kitten finds out some things she's not sure how to process!
> 
> This chapter is almost 10k words, so be warned!

\--

Chapter 12: River Retreat

\--

The morning routine that usually took place was slightly skewed following the night Papyrus tried to kiss you.

Where normally he made breakfast himself for both you and Sans, he invited you to join that morning, even though his stance was rigid and body tense.

He taught you the best way to make french toast with eggs from the chickens, showing you just how much liquid magic they used in food. Then he showed you the way to poach an egg, and how to make the perfect scattering of sugar for the toast.

Just in case.

He made sure to tell you "I'M NOT IMPLYING YOU SHOULD COOK. I JUST, UM." And it ended there.

You would certainly try to make them something soon, on your own accord, if only to surprise the brothers.

Even though he loved cooking, Papyrus deserved a break once in a while.

Standing beside him, a pan of your own in front of you, he easily reached over your shoulders for ingredients on the side of the counter.

You pouted your lips at this, and playfully slid a large spoon just out of reach as he went to grab it. He stretched farther over you, completely oblivious that his ribs were practically rubbing your head.

Suddenly, as though he finally came to a realisation, he was quick to backpedal. His face lit up a bright orange as he pretended to find the window over the sink the most fascinating thing in the room.

It was not.

Taking up a spoon, you tapped his arm to get his attention with the end, spooking him with a small smile on your lips. It wasn't until he saw you were handing him the utensil that he turned back.

A nervous chuckle escaped him, jagged teeth parted slightly as his tiny sockets darted across the stove. "Thank you." He answered quietly, his large hand overtaking yours.

The touch lingered a few moments before Papyrus pulled back quickly and cleared his nonexistent throat, his shoulders hunched up around his jaw. "WHY DON'T YOU GO WAKE SANS? I-I CAN FINISH UP HERE."

Smooth.

Very smooth.

Like gravel.

Taking that as a point to let him cool down, you spun on your heel and made it down the hall. Papyrus' door was open at the end, letting the morning light from his window filter into the hall, illuminating Sans' bedroom door.

Just in front of it, you stood stock still, trying your hardest to listen for any sound within. All that met you was the faint noise of snoring.

Only then did it come to you that you hadn't actually seen the inside of Sans' room. The rest of the house, including the coop outside, but not in there.

Your hand rapped against the door a few times, softer than what you knew you should have. Really, you wanted to see inside, to know if it was anything like his brother's room. Perhaps he had a table of figures, too. A bookshelf littered with puzzle manuals. A neat pirate flag.

Or whatever it was Sans actually liked.

You realised you didn't know, other than astronomy. Would his ceiling be covered in those little glowing stars?

With the knob in hand, you slowly twisted it, popping open the old door with a low squeal. The light from the hall lit up the floor of Sans' room, revealing a number of socks, crumpled papers, his telescope, and… an axe.

There was just an axe in the middle of the room. You know, laying there. On the rug.

 _In a bedroom_.

**An axe.**

Letting that sink in for a second, you took a deep breath to steady yourself, and pushed the door open further. Anything to let some light into the dungeon Sans called his room.

The floorboards creaked when you walked in, and you avoided the axe on the floor out of principle.

It wasn't bloody or warped. It was simply dotted with a few notches in the metal, old scars left behind on the thick wooden handle. There was heft to it from looks alone, the handle wrapped with a thick band of leather.

You wondered if you were strong enough to even hold it up.

But that wasn't why you were there.

Situated on the unmade bed was a lump, a ball of sheets coiled in its arms. The "it" was Sans, of course, his face pressed into the makeshift pillow as his one good eye was visible, but shut.

His usual grin was gone, replaced with a slack line across his skull, his teeth slightly parted. His coat was thrown over the edge of the bed at his feet, leaving him in his shirt and shorts.

You hadn't actually taken a very close look at him, your eyes usually averted to Papyrus or something else around you. His face was relaxed, the usually tired creases around his sockets gone. There was a sense of contentment there.

Now that his coat was off, you noted how thick his bones were, the way they almost fused together at the joints. Magic, you knew. It was always the excuse he made whenever you didn't understand something.

Both an infuriating and acceptable answer.

And without his coat to make him look much bigger, you noted the way he would still strike an imposing silhouette. He was large despite not wearing it.

With one step toward the bed, you extended a hand out, barely touching his shoulder. His bones were pleasantly warm beneath your touch, radiating into his shirt.

Sans flinched somewhat, and yet, didn't wake. He simply let his face snuggle deeper into his sheet ball, phalanges gripping at the cloth tightly. The hole in his head was visible, as you imagined sleeping on that side probably wasn't the most comfortable position for the monster.

You tried again, your touch on his shoulder a little more forceful than the last. He still didn't wake, though a low growl emanated from his throat. That's when you gave a small growl back in earnest.

In the kitchen, Papyrus was waiting patiently for your return. It would be a waste to let such good food go cold, even for a few more minutes of sleep. Reheated eggs just didn't taste the same.

With the palm of your hand, you took Sans by the shoulder and shook, not hard, but enough that he should have--

In a flash, you were somehow on the floor, the back of your head smarting against the hard wood. Above you, one sanguine eye glared down, the pupil a barely noticeable pinprick in the darkness.

Two large hands kept you pinned, tight on your collarbone.

You'd never seen Sans move that quick--you'd hardly had time to blink from where you shook him to him bursting from the bed.

Sans didn't seem to register what was going on, his grip only tightening as the seconds ticked by. It wasn't until a fleshy, human hand came up and smacked him against his cheek that he snapped out of it.

The smack wasn't hard. It probably hurt your hand more than it did his skull, but it worked all the same.

Sans' pupil dilated, his shoulders relaxing now that he realised it was only you.

A shaky sigh left him, "not a wise idea to wake me up like that, kitten." He laughed low, and still hadn't moved from where he was overtop you. "thought you were a _monster_ under the bed."

Your face fell into an unamused frown.

That was one way to avoid apologizing.

Just change the subject. Make a joke. Don't acknowledge you tackled someone violently to the floor right next to the axe you had in your room.

Something you still really wanted to ask him about.

Sniffing at the air, Sans released you and sat up. His eyelight narrowed, his grin returning to its usual wide self, "paps make breakfast?"

Shimmying out from under him and a foot or two away, you stood to brush yourself off. No thanks to Sans. Your heel knocked against the axe on the rug, sending it into a weak spin.

The metal clinked as Sans stopped it with his bony fingers, seated on his knees, "can't let it rust outside, can I?" He questioned coyly when you gave him a look, your eyebrow quirked up.

No, you supposed not. But he could have simply left it in the kitchen, or the living room, the closet.

 _Not in the middle of his bedroom floor_.

"I like to keep it in _axe-e_ llent condition." He finished, knowing the pun would be enough to get under your skin.

He simply watched you shake your head and make your way to the door, disappearing around the corner.

Knees popping as he stood, Sans grabbed his coat from the bed and hoisted it on, relaxed by the old fur now tickling at his jaw. He took a peek back at his bed, nudging the sheets he'd coiled up over a bit of fabric that didn't quite belong there.

Thankfully, the room had been dark. You didn't notice what he'd been snuggled against all night.

No worries. Your sweater would make it back into the next load of laundry, no worse for wear.

\--

Edge paced around the kitchen, his heeled boots clicking loudly on the tile. Forgoing his more casual wear he kept on now that they were on the surface, he wore his cuirass and pauldrons, his frame widened and dangerously pointed.

Somewhere upstairs, Red was "getting ready", and by that Edge knew he meant potentially sleeping in for another hour.

At the kitchen table sat Vanilla scrolling through his phone, a cleaned plate in front of him of what used to be fruit. A small pair of spectacles sat on his face, curious considering he had no ears to keep them in place.

_Magic._

Also, aesthetic.

Vanilla knew something was up based solely on the electricity in their air and how the large skeleton in the room was dressed, but Edge refused to tell him. Red's plan was for them and them alone--they didn't need the intervention of the others at that moment.

Perhaps later, but most certainly not now.

At the sink, Blue dunked a still-hot pan in the water and turned about, a breakfast plate in his hands. He passed Edge without a word and exited the kitchen, the sound of his loud steps heard going up the stairs.

Edge supposed Stretch had to eat, though he would have extended a greater punishment himself if it were his choice. Vanilla dashed "starvation until he learns his lesson" rather quickly from the list of ideas. He also denied "a night in the pillory".

They didn't even have one of those. It would have clashed too much with the garden lanterns.

Blipping into existence in front of the fridge, Red threw open the door with a loud clanking of bottles. The half-empty mustard bottle on the door made it between his teeth as he slammed it shut, turning to face Edge.

"where you two going?" Vanilla asked, looking away from his phone for a second, up over the edge of his glasses.

"OUT." Edge answered quickly, plainly.

"obviously." Vanilla watched Red down what was left of the mustard bottle before throwing it in the bin, "so, I called G and Green this morning. they'll be coming by this weekend for the festival."

Red had to stop himself from smirking. The idea that the Gaster Brothers would be stopping by was perfect, and he didn't even have to lift a finger.

Not that Red wanted to speak to G anyway.

He knew those two would stop by like they always did. They were so predictable. And even though Red envied their ability to travel where they pleased, he reminded himself why he stayed put in the first place.

"I didn't tell them about y/n." Vanilla finished, putting his phone down on the table, "that's going to be a tough one to explain. but I've been thinking of asking them on what to do about Stretch."

"SEND HIM OFF TO DUSTY. OR RELIC**. THEY'LL 'HANDLE' HIM." Vanilla visibly shuddered when Red and Edge gave a dark laugh in unison. The idea that Stretch would fare well alongside not only one of their more murderous counterparts, but a version of Gaster that wasn't quite the one Vanilla knew, was not in the cards.

Especially not Relic. He had a human of his own, and was damn protective of her. Inviting a monster who admitted to openly harming a human to live with them didn't bode well.

Vanilla considered himself a hypocrite when it came to that.

"gonna have to veto that one, I think. we also have to consider Blue. you know he's probably not gonna let his brother go without him."

"BLACK AND MUTT, THEN. ANNOYINGLY CLOSE, ENOUGH THAT THE BABY BONES WON'T MISS HIS BROTHER." Edge made his way under the kitchen arch and toward the front door, calling back to Red, "I WANT THIS DONE WITH. HURRY UP."

Red gave a cryptic wink to Vanilla before he trotted out as well, the front door slamming so hard it shook the house.

Vanilla peeked around the room and shook his head. That was another avenue to consider, though probably not much better than the arrangements he had now. Despite Black's insistence he cared only because Mutt fancied you was bunk. Anyone with eyes could see how the smaller skeleton's face softened when you'd been around him.

Stretch was not you, however, and whatever softness that had been there would most certainly not be there again if it were the orange-clad monster instead.

Vanilla spun his plate around on the table, head full of ideas on what to do about the many issues in the house. He knew he'd been quiet so far concerning you, keeping his mouth shut as Red fumed for him.

You two had been close, not nearly as close as you and Red, but still. He and his own brother enjoyed your company, Papyrus… er, Maple, especially. The large flower garden had a small spot dedicated to the flowers you two planted together, a patch of colorful asters.

Even now, Maple (Vanilla found it hard to not call his own brother Papyrus sometimes) was outside preparing for the coming spring. The plot of flowers you'd planted remained untouched, as did the small gathering of dark red petunias next to it.

Taking his glasses from his face, Vanilla stood. From the floor above, he could hear Blue attempting to talk to his brother, but it was obviously a one-sided conversation.

Vanilla would admit he found it disheartening. If Maple refused to speak to him, regardless if he committed a misdead, or stars forbid a potential murder, he'd be just as distraught. But that was easy to say. He didn't know how he'd actually feel if something like that happened.

Sighing, he placed his plate in the sink and rubbed at this sockets. A day of patent work was ahead of him, and he hadn't even started.

\--

There was a wide, rocky brook that ran down the mountain, dotted with small waterfalls and even larger ones here and there. After breakfast, Papyrus announced he wanted to take you out and show you, maybe catch some fish.

Sans joked he would come along, too, but there would be no one there to keep the couch warm. Really, it was just an excuse for you and his brother to have some alone time.

Papyrus told him what had happened the previous night.

At first, Sans had been silent, his one pupil completely gone. But a few seconds later, after noting the look on his brother's face--one of insecurity--he fell back to his usual self, albeit with a laugh and a shake of his head.

If Papyrus was showing inklings of affection, who was he to tell him "no."

When you'd walked into the living room to fetch your shoes, Sans gave you a wide grin, his sockets crinkled at the edges. Unsure what it was all about, you gave a weak smile back and turned to face the larger skeleton coming down the hall.

"you two have fun. I'll keep the couch safe." Sans plopped down heavily into the cushions, his arms behind his head.

His gaze followed you to the door, where Papyrus held it open for you to exit.

With a wink, Sans wordlessly wished his brother luck.

If Papyrus was happy, he was happy.

\--

The air was crisp in the early morning, the grass damp under your feet as the two of you made your way into the thicket. A small deer path wound its way through the brush and trees, worn down over time until nothing grew in the way.

Papyrus walked beside you, a large pail and rod in hand, a mesh net in yours. He'd been insistent he catch some fish for dinner that night, and maybe show you how to do it as well, if you didn't know.

The quiet between you two was calm and welcome. You were able to relax, be comfortable. The air didn't need to be filled with words.

Instead, you focused on the sway of the treetops, how a number of birds darted this way and that through the branches. You wouldn't be able to climb the trunks if you tried, the nearest branches high up above you and even Papyrus.

"SO, UM," He was the first to break the silence, causing you to look up at him. He was walking tall, finally free from the confines of the house, his scarf billowing out gently behind him. "ABOUT LAST NIGHT."

His tiny sockets glanced over at you, his teeth clicking together loudly, "DON'T FEEL OBLIGATED TO SAY 'YES'. YOU… you don't have to reciprocate. I wanted to--"

Papyrus shut his mouth, the words refusing to come out. It was obvious he was flustered, his face hiding partially in his scarf as you stared at him.

When he didn't say any more, you raised your free hand and wrapped it around his wrist, your fingers barely touching. You stayed that way, testing the waters, waiting to see if he would shake it off or accept it.

Papyrus shoulders drooped with a relieved sigh, and adjusting his grip so the pail and rod were in one hand, he felt yours slip down into his own.

A shiver ran down his spine, your skin warm against his bones as your small hand sat nearly engulfed, dwarfed by his large one.

The hold was loose, so if he wanted to pull away, he could. But nothing came, and with a small smile, your fingers curled around one of his phalanges just a little tighter.

Continuing toward the brook, you walked hand-in-hand, and no more was said on the matter.

\--

Upstairs, Black and Mutt sat in the magically sealed room that served as Stretch's cell. The smaller of the two was perched on a computer chair, his legs crossed right at the knee, his hands on his thighs, a wide, mischievous grin on his skull.

It was one that met his sockets, creasing them deep, making the red of his eyelights burn even brighter.

Black knew something Stretch didn't.

Beside Black was Mutt, the lanky monster on the floor, his long coat splayed out around him like a puddle. There was no grin on his face to match his brother's, but his eyes said it all.

I told Black something you would _kill_ to know.

Meanwhile, Stretch was on the edge of his bed, his orange hoodie thrown to the wayside in favor of a simple tank. He wouldn't even have bothered with that, but there was _company_ present.

When originally Black and Mutt came upstairs, Blue tried to stop them from entering the room. Black, not nearly as "tall" as his azure counterpart, pushed him aside and claimed it was their time to pass judgement--the reason they'd been there in the first place.

It wasn't a courtesy call.

They were there on business.

Blue pouted, his arms over his chest as he didn't budge, "YOU'RE NOT EVEN A JUDGE." he'd shouted at Black, loud enough that Stretch heard him through the door. "PAPY'S ALREADY LOCKED UP. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?"

That was correct, of course. If anyone was a Judge, it was Mutt. However, given the circumstances: a Judge himself judging wrongly and now paying the price, Black didn't think it mattered.

"A CHANCE TO… TALK." Black answered, his sharp teeth pressed together in a grin that no longer read as amused.

And that's how Blue ended up on the floor, and Black and Mutt in the room, passing through the barrier around them. The door slamming in Blue's face was only insult to injury.

Mutt crossed his legs and stared out from under his brow, eyes locked with Stretch's as Black began.

"SO, VANILLA TELLS ME YOU TRIED TO KILL Y/N." It was a blunt way to begin things, though Stretch hadn't expected any different. "THAT'S A BIG NO-NO." Black emphasized this with a wag of his finger. "TSK TSK."

So, that's how it was going to be, then? Stretch sighed and shook his head in indignation, preparing himself to deal with childish wordplay.

"it was a misunderstanding. I didn't mean for it to go that far." Despite knowing it was a poor excuse, Stretch had to say it. He hadn't meant to hurt you as badly as he had. He'd let his emotions for you, his brother, and everyone else in between get in the way of his better judgement.

"REALLY, NOW? THAT'S NOT HOW I HEARD IT." Black placed a hand atop Mutt's hood, giving it a gentle pat, "INTERESTING. JEALOUSY IS SUCH A TERRIBLE QUALITY."

It was Stretch's turn to narrow his sockets. "POOR THING COULDN'T HANDLE NOT BEING TOP DOG ANYMORE, SO YOU TOOK IT OUT ON HER?"

"it wasn't just that." Stretch stopped, knowing that wasn't quite the right thing to say, "that wasn't the reason. I thought she'd hurt Blue. you should know just as well as I how terrifying humans can be."

Black would admit Stretch had a point.

That wasn't enough of an excuse, though.

With a huff through his nose, he lifted his head and stared down at Stretch, "OF COURSE I DO. BUT," His hand pet at Mutt's hood now, "WHY DID YOU NOT TALK IT OUT WITH Y/N? OH, YES, THAT'S RIGHT. YOU ISOLATED, BERATED, AND SCORNED HER. A COWARD UNABLE TO SPEAK HIS MIND LIKE A BABY BONES."

Black disengaged from Mutt's coat, "I HAVE SEEN YOUR TEXTS. THERE WAS NOTHING INNOCENT ABOUT IT. YOUR OWN SELF-RIGHTEOUS JEALOUSY GOT IN THE WAY. YOU COULDN'T STAND SEEING ANOTHER MONSTER WITH HER, LET ALONE THE IDEA OF YOUR OWN BROTHER."

Standing up, Black took a few steps towards Stretch, his hands on his hips, "THE 'BLUE WAS HURT' EXCUSE WAS JUST THE CHERRY ON TOP."

Stretch could feel magic building up in his bones, annoyance and irritation turning to anger. He knew he'd been in the wrong, knew what he'd done was heinous. That's why he'd willingly put himself in this glorified prison.

He didn't need Black reiterating what was already spat at him.

"BUT, I DO HAVE ONE QUESTION." Shutting his sockets, Black's grin grew more gentle, "I HEAR YOU SAW A GHOST. YOU _AND_ YOUR BROTHER. CARE TO ELABORATE?"

On the floor, Mutt gave a low chuckle, leaning forward on his legs. "or was it just the sins crawling up your back?"

Watching as Black waltzed over to the window, the sun from outside blinded Stretch, the curtains pulled to the side.

It was a bright, crisp day, the chill of winter finally fading into spring.

"OH, BUT THAT'S NOT ALL." Black spun on his heel, the sun behind him giving him an odd glow, "DO YOU REALLY THINK HER DEAD?"

"no." Stretch knew what he saw days ago, when he and Blue headed to town. He knew you hadn't been a ghost or some kind of hallucination brought upon by guilt.

That would have been too easy.

You were there, flesh and blood, alive and… well? Stretch admittedly didn't know. He wasn't sure how well you could be after having your soul impaled.

"MUTT HAS TOLD ME SOME VERY INTERESTING THINGS. HAVEN'T YOU?" Black stared at his brother, ruby eyes flashing.

"yes, m'lord." Mutt took a dog treat from his coat and lit it, blowing the purple smoke straight at Stretch, "very interesting, indeed."

"WE JUST SO HAPPEN TO KNOW WHERE OUR LITTLE HUMAN HAS BEEN HIDING ALL THIS TIME." At Black's words, Stretch's focus was on him fully, another cloud of smoke dissipating against the side of his skull. "AH, AH, AH. DON'T THINK YOU'RE FINDING OUT THAT EASY."

Back to his seat, Black spun the chair around on its axle, "WHERE WOULD THE FUN BE IN THAT?"

"is that where red and edge were going?" Stretch quipped, trying to put the pieces together.

Earlier that morning, he'd heard the two sharp, pointy brothers yelling at each other down the hall. This and that about "getting ready" and "an axe to grind" before Edge all but destroyed the stairs with his heavy boots.

"BUT THAT'S FOR ANOTHER TIME. WE'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. AS FOR NOW," Black let the chair spin to a stop, Mutt rising from the floor to join him, "ENJOY YOUR STAY."

With a strut, Black made his way to the door and flung it open, the knob striking the plaster of the wall. Outside, Blue's face was tight, squished as the ridge of his nose wrinkled at the equally small monster leaving the room.

Mutt stayed for a moment longer, now up to his full height over Stretch, "can't guarantee red'll bring her back. not in one piece, anyway." He chortled around his dog treat, taking one last drag before he threw the end against Stretch's face.

"how do you like your human? hard-boiled or over easy?" Laughing under his breath to the door, Mutt pushed past Blue and followed after his brother.

Stretch wiped the ash of the dog treat from his crown, his gaze trained on the window. He could feel Blue's stare from the doorway, his brother quiet.

"shut the door, bro." Was all Stretch said, the first words he'd spoken to him in almost a day.

"PAPY, WHAT DID MUTT MEAN?" Blue's gloved hand was on the door knob, ready to close it despite not wanting to do so, "WE DON'T EAT HUMANS."

"don't worry about it. leave before you get in trouble." Standing from the bed, Stretch grabbed his orange hoodie to put on.

He was suddenly very cold.

Not wanting to go, but knowing he couldn't argue, Blue slowly shut the door, his large eyelights fuzzy as though he were about to cry.

Stretch's fingers clacked against his skull as he ran them down his face. You'd been close enough nearby that both he and Blue saw you days ago, and that Mutt and Black knew where you were.

From Red saying he had "an axe to grind", to Mutt asking him how he "liked his human".

All of those were enough to give Stretch an idea as to where you were, and he felt his whole body go cold.

Axe and Crooks had you.

\--

Edge would never consider himself a sentimental monster. He liked action, living in the now, boasting of his accomplishments.

When you appeared alongside Stretch almost two years ago, you didn't seem to care about any of his grandiose statements. You'd even questioned him!

Him! The Great and Terrible Papyrus!

And you'd certainly been turned off by Red's initial attempts to shock your hand with his palm buzzer.

Neither of them impressed you in the slightest.

When did things turn around?

Even now, as he and Red headed toward the Crooked Brothers' house, he thought back to how he'd gotten there.

If you'd asked him over a year ago to help a human out of the kindness of his heart, he would have laughed you out of the house, down the road, and into the next zip code. He _and_ his brother.

Even Red changed. He was softer than Edge was, he knew, and it showed.

He grew on you the quickest after you'd met, his attempts at crude flattery slowly winning you over. It was a charm that not even Edge had seen.

Initially, you ignored his advances, but he'd broken through one day, and that was that. Stretch didn't like the competition very much, though. But he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut at the time.

And with Edge? The two of you were never intimate--don't be preposterous--so he knew he wasn't doing these things out of a love for you. Of course not. It was a… pride thing.

You were family to them now, and that's all. Family protected family, even if some members were more squishy than others.

It was in no way because he was attached.

The Crooked Brothers' house wasn't far now, and Edge could tell just by the magic radiating off his brother that Red was tense. If what the shorter skeleton said earlier that morning was true, and that Axe and Crooks had you, it could go a number of ways.

One: They would willingly hand you over so that you could be healed properly.

Two: They would hand you over a little worse for wear (because Edge, much like his brother, didn't trust the two of them), and admit their wrongdoing for keeping you.

Three: They'd refuse to hand you over like the selfish… rather, the _unknowing_ monsters that they were, until proven who _you_ were.

Four: A fight would break out, because Red was Red and Axe was Axe, and there was no better way to put it.

Whichever way the situation unfolded, Edge made a mental note to escort you away even if his brother sought to duke it out with one of the Crooked Brothers.

It's what Red requested, anyway.

Red ground his teeth tightly, his fake gold one beginning to ache in its socket. He'd hardly slept that morning, thinking over how he wanted to do things.

Just running in there was out of the question if you didn't remember. He couldn't have you panicking with your soul the way that it was.

But he knew Axe wasn't going to just hand you over. The skeleton with a hole in his head could have said something to them over the past week about your being there, but there wasn't a word of communication.

Hell, he could have said something when he and Vanilla came by shortly after your disappearance.

Whatever the reason, Red knew Axe was going to give him trouble.

The cabin wasn't too far ahead in the next clearing, the trees already thinning out and the brush becoming less dense. The path they were on showed less grass by the minute, the gravel road that led from the main house over to the cabin a bit of a trek.

How simple would it have been for Axe or Crooks, mainly the latter, to come over and ask them " _Hey, we found a human. Is it yours?_

"Perhaps Crooks didn't know, but that may not have been the case. There was hardly a thing Red didn't share with his own brother, and that was something spread across all versions of Sans known so far.

Though, Stretch not telling Blue what he'd done to you was a bit of a shock. He supposed letting the cat out of the bag so early would have been _detrimental_ to his sulking-time.

Red adjusted his hood and came to a stop just as the thicket ended, Edge beside him with his arms crossed. His gloved fingers tapped on his bare arm, narrowed sockets scanning the area around the cabin.

"WHAT NEXT? THE LONGER WE WAIT, THE WORSE SHE COULD BE." Once again, Edge wasn't giving an inch on his "not attached" demeanor concerning you.

"gonna try this the polite way first." That made Edge whip his skull at Red, sockets going wide for a fraction of a second. "ain't gonna be useful if we scare her. she won't want to come with us."

The grass crunched under Red's sneakers as he was purposefully avoiding the paving slate left through the yard. They approached the door of the cabin, the porch creaking as they stepped up on it.

Edge nearly knocked his head against the ceiling of the porch, swatting the small lantern that hung from a short chain out of his face.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Red squared his shoulders and knocked.

\--

The silence of the living room was welcome. Papyrus had gone off with you into the woods to fish, to bond a bit over… well, Sans supposed it would be a romantic setting.

Were mountain streams romantic? His only experience was Waterfall, and he hardly considered a field of whispering echo flowers and a starving Onionsan romantic.

Papyrus would find a way.

Sans turned on his side and snuggled into the couch cushions, his brow pressed against the back. He was happy his brother was showing some interest, happy knowing Papyrus was opening up to someone other than him.

Your arrival there, though seen as some kind of cosmic joke at first, was turning out to be one of the best things that happened to them since appearing above ground.

Deep down he knew it couldn't--wouldn't--last. They couldn't keep a human there forever. There had to be people outside of the monsters in the main house who knew and cared about you. There would come a time where people would ask questions, where someone would come and--

There came a knock at the door.

Heavy and firm.

The sound of a chain could be heard jingling outside, the lamp hanging from the porch moving about.

Sans froze.

It was the middle of the day, no one had been called, and there was no reason for the other skeletons to come knocking.

Except for one.

Another knock came, more forceful this time, rattling the door against its frame. Sans sat up and rolled from the couch, racing down the hall toward his room.

"I know you're in there, Axe!" Red called through the door jam, his voice slightly muffled by the old wood.

But Sans ignored him and burst into his room. There on the floor, right where he left it, was his beloved hatchet. Whisking it up, he turned on his heel, the blade knocking the door frame hard enough that it created a long scar across the wood.

"answer me, fucker!" Red yelled again, his plan for taking things the nice way going right out the window.

Sans knew they were there for you. There was no other reason. He knew he'd seen Red and another monster snooping around their land just the other night, and it only made sense that Red had managed to see you somehow.

"coming." Sans answered in a singsong voice, dragging his axe behind him across the floor. His shoulders rose and fell heavily, his grin more twisted than he'd had it in a long time. "just a second."

\--

Outside the door, Red growled lowly. He knew Axe was wasting his time, trying to get a rise out of him.

It wasn't until both Edge and Red felt the familiar surge of magic that they barely dodged out of the way of Axe's hatchet. The skeleton had come up behind them, swinging wildly through the porch at the two monsters. Either he'd run around the back of the cabin, or he'd gotten enough of his strength back that he'd managed to shortcut.

Either way, Red was more than a little angry.

Flinging himself at Axe, the two skeletons rolled from the stoop and down into the grass. Axe kicked Red off him and over his head, the monster falling onto his back with a hard thud.

Axe raised his gnarled hatchet to strike, but was stopped abruptly by a large red bone blocking the path of the blade.

Edge glared down the length of it, using his long legs to kick Axe across the chin and away from his brother. While Axe flailed back, Edge snatched the hatchet from his hands and kept it at bay behind him.

Red rose from the ground and shook the blackness from his vision, coming up alongside his brother as Axe reoriented himself not that far away.

From the grass, Axe staggered up, a deep huff coming through his nose. "to what do I owe the visit?" He snickered, not at all fazed by the lack of his weapon.

"WE HAVE COME HERE FOR Y/N." Edge proclaimed as he chucked the hatchet deep into the woods, "AND DO NOT LIE. WE KNOW YOU HAVE HER."

"saw her last night. don't even try to fuckin' lie." Red adjusted himself, standing tall alongside his brother. "where have you got her? I ain't fuckin' playin' with you."

"out." Axe replied simply, his eyes closed as though the two in front of him didn't even pose a threat, "my brother's enjoying himself. not keen on lettin' you two mess it up."

"WHERE?" Edge demanded, and took a step toward him threateningly.

"beats me. though I suppose one of you boys beat _her_ first, huh?" His shoulders shook with a dark laugh, "is that why she got lost in the woods?"

"you're not even denyin' now that you've got her." Red snarled, Edge looking off into the treeline.

"don't hear you denying it either." Opening his eye, Axe stared Red down, "which one of you did it, huh? if you ask me, y'all sent us an angel."

Down the bridge of his nose, Red stared, not quite understanding.

"because she's pretty hole-y." Axe emphasised his point by tapping at his chest, right where a human soul would lay. "guess that makes me an angel, too."

His hand snaked up and grabbed at his unlit eye socket, tugging on it hard to ground himself. "but why would we just hand her over to you? doesn't seem like you gave enough of a damn if she ended up the way that she did."

"HARDLY. Y/N IS OUR…" Edge's red eye lights moved down to his brother, where Red was staring hard back at him, " _FAMILY_. THE GUILT IS NOT ON THE WHOLE OF US FOR WHAT STRETCH DID TO HER."

Axe made a noise of confirmation, a low sigh escaping him, "so that's who did it, then? figures. my bro spent a long time getting her back to snuff, y'know."

"and that's why we're here. y'can't keep her." Red shook his head with a sneer, "she's gotta see a real doc to be fixed. not whatever fucked-up magic the two of you got."

"so it has nothing to with her being your 'Kitten', then, huh? good to know." Axe kicked at a clump of grass he'd torn up with the toe of his shoe, "guess she's not _just your_ Kitten anymore."

"don't put fuckin' words in my mouth! and she ain't your fuckin' kitten!" Red summoned a single, long bone in his hand, his one eyelight flaring to life, "where's she at?"

"with my brother. like I said, they're _enjoying_ themselves." Beneath his sleeves, Axe's fingers twitched, ready to confront the monsters in front of him. It had been so long since he's been in a good flight, and there Red was, just egging him on.

Red whipped his gaze to Edge, "find where they've gone off to, and get her back. I got somethin' to settle with bonehead here."

"pot, kettle." Axe chortled. He paced from left to right slightly, his head always aimed at the two other skeletons.

Edge nodded and took a quick scan of the forest surrounding them, noting a faint signature of magic--orange magic--not far out.

"DON'T GET DUSTED." Edge ordered, though he meant it with every bit of his soul.

He'd level the forest if something happened to Red.

"yeah, yeah, just go." Red waved him off, watching as Edge ran off into the treeline, darting down a deer path through the brush.

Axe followed him until he disappeared, then moved his gaze right back to Red, "so, you come out here again begging for your human. stretch obviously did a number on her, but I don't see hide nor hair of him. did you dust him?"

"trust me, I fucking wanted to." Red mirrored Axe, moving from left to right slowly. "why didn't ya just fuckin' say somethin' to us. why would you want to keep a human, anyway?"

"and don't fuckin' say to eat." He added quickly.

"my bro likes her. got her back walkin' and… well, not talkin', but he doesn't mind." Axe's grin grew wide, "maybe it was to eat her at first, not gonna lie. but now I just wanna _eat_ her." He emphasized his point by running a glowing, red tongue across his jagged teeth.

Hurling himself forward, Red swung his bone violently, barely missing Axe as he sidestepped.

Swipe after swipe was aimed at Axe, several of them cutting through the thick wood paneling of the cabin before the two of them turned into the yard.

A rain of bones came from the sky, shooting into the ground rapidly as Axe simply backpedaled.

"kitten's not here right now. if you'd like to leave a message--" Axe pulled something rectangular from his pocket, the glass of a screen flashing.

It was your phone.

Already the anger that was building in Red's bones was boiling, and now it was close to spilling over.

That bastard Axe had your phone this whole time, no doubt kept it from you--if you even knew you had one. How quickly would this have been resolved if he'd just given it to you?

Teeth gnashed, Red squared his shoulders and stared his other self down. Axe laughed under his breath and turned the phone around, pulling out a piece of paper he'd placed in the battery compartment. The screen flashed as it came to life, starting back up.

"gotta say, she had one ugly home screen. I made sure to fix it for her." Axe unlocked the phone, his one eye scanning down to the messages icon, "would ya look at that?"

"give it back, ya rat fuck." Red spat, taking a few steps forward.

Axe only took several steps back in return, "it's not nice to call her an 'it'. here I thought she was your 'kitten'." His eyelight became a half moon as he looked through the messages, tapping the one with Red's icon, "you get soft when you talk to her. what kind of nickname is 'bugbear'?"

A single red bone barely missed Axe, the stocky skeleton dodging the projectile with relative ease. "fuck off! y'a'int keepin' her here!"

Red summoned a few more bones, these spearing through the grass toward the sky. Axe jumped out of the way just in time, throwing the phone in an arc.

It struck Red on the top of the head, making him reel back for a moment as he bent low to grab it. The home screen had been changed from a picture of you and him to a simple kitten in the middle of a flower field, an idea that made him more angry than if the whole phone was wiped.

He knew he might have been getting in over his head, but it was now or never. You needed help with your soul, and you weren't going to get it by staying with the Crooked Brothers.

This wasn't a fight to possess you, no. Red knew he didn't have any right to keep you to himself, to tell you to be with him only. He wasn't going into Stretch territory.

You were autonomous, you had your own wants and feelings. But this? It wasn't a matter of what you wanted--it was what you needed.

And you needed to be away from Axe and Crooks. You _needed_ Green to look at your soul. You _needed_ professional help, not some backwoods, half-assed magic that covered your soul like a cheap plaster.

Red's hands shook when he remembered the orange hue that encompassed that little heart of yours, that Crooks tried so hard to fix the mess Stretch caused.

Red couldn't be mad at him for trying.

But he could most certainly be mad at Axe for enabling him.

"quit fuckin' playin'!" Hoisting his hand into the air, Red lifted Axe from the ground by several feet. However, he wasn't expecting a string of dark red bones to shoot from behind him.

One barely missed his ribs, shooting through the fabric of his beloved coat before dissipating on the ground not far from Axe.

Axe landed on his feet as agile as a cat, a jagged, hardly formed bone of his own in hand. He lunged forward toward Red, missing an arc from the other monster, and launching up on one leg.

The top of his head slammed into Red's chin, the hole in Axe's head scraping along his jaw, no doubt marking it.

Red fell back, but came right at Axe with a move of his own. Feigning a swipe, he rose up and slammed the crown of his head against Axe's.

Stumbling back, his one good eye extinguished, Axe staggered. He swayed on his feet for a moment, a bit of dust falling from the various cracks in his skull.

"fuckin' knock it off! sick of this shit! we're takin' back y/n whether crooks likes it or not." Red rubbed at his skull, his brow already sore.

That was the wrong thing to say.

\--

The brook wound through the gentle hills of the mountain proper, the swell of the water at least twenty feet across. Currently, you stared down at your reflection in the ripples, Crooks not far away.

Already, he'd managed to catch a fish or two of his own, small ones that sat in a layer of water in the pail he'd brought. You'd managed to snag one with your net just as it leapt up a short waterfall, landing in it without much fuss.

For now, though, you simply watched the water. You'd wanted to dunk your legs in it, to feel the brisk chill against your skin, but it was still far too cold out for you to do so. Even your hand was still shaking somewhat from only a few minutes ago, when you'd gotten adventurous.

Papyrus sat on a large stone along the bank, his fishing rod perched between his legs as he lined the hook with bait. He'd wanted to catch a whole bucket for dinner (he'd eat most of it himself) and some for leftovers.

You glanced from him up the slope of the mountain, through the trees, and up to where the sky tried to shine blue. It was a surprisingly nice day, nary a cloud out, and the air had just the right amount of chill.

With one foot in front of the other, you scaled the slope that ran along the bank, going a few feet higher than where Papyrus sat. Swinging his line out, he angled his gaze at you, watching as you turned on the rock leaning slightly over the gentle falls.

"CAREFUL, KITTEN. THOSE ROCKS ARE SLICK." And he was right. The stone under your feet was coated with a thin layer of moss, moistened by the spray of water hanging in the air around the falls.

You gave him a small thumbs up of confirmation before you turned and walked a little further.

The forest around you was breathtaking, and you simply wanted to see more of it--if only for a minute.

"DON'T WANDER OFF TOO FAR." Papyrus added, boosting himself in his seat to watch you disappear over the rocks that jutted around the falls, until even that wasn't enough.

You didn't hear the sigh that escaped him or see the small smile stretch across his features, but part of you knew it was there.

In your own little space, you walked along the brook, noting the way several birds sped away at your entry. They flew off into the woods, tittering loudly at your intrusion before the forest grew mostly quiet again.

It would have been nice to get Sans to come along with you all, but he hardly seemed the type to sit around waiting for the fish to come to him. No, he'd probably snatch your net and force the fish into a frenzy until he managed to snag a few.

With a pebble in hand, you weighed it in your palm before chucking it into the flowing water. The ripples moved down the brook and over the falls in an instant, as though you hadn't thrown a stone at all.

So you threw another one, this time trying to skip one on the surface to no avail.

Your eyes traveled to a few large boulders that sat in the water, their tops uncovered and somewhat dry despite the water around them. Interested, you hastened your step toward them.

They weren't too far from the bank, and with a few measured steps, you'd managed to leap across to the first one. Your arms swung out to balance, but you managed to catch yourself easily. The next boulder was a bit simpler, and you made the jump just like the last.

You stood there for a moment on the center stone and peered down the flow of rushing water, just barely making out the sound of Papyrus letting out a happy cry.

He must have caught another fish.

Onto the last stone, you leapt, bounding again easily to the other bank where you slipped in the mud.

You slid about a bit before landing on your knees, your hands out to catch you before you were left with a face full of stone and grass.

With a huff, you stood and rubbed at your knees, your pants dirtied with mud and moss along the legs.

That was going to leave a stain.

Taking a step forward, you wiped the rest of the grime on your hands off on your pants, the cloth already dirtied. Insult to injury wasn't so much a thing at that point.

It was until you turned to walk down along the opposite bank that you let out a loud gasp, a large, red bone appearing in front of you.

It stabbed into the ground at your feet, pushing you back. Whirling, you spun to race the opposite way, only for another bone to materialize in front of you. The one at your back was still there, and without thinking you ran to the side.

Three thin bones impaled the ground in front of you, blocking your way as several more started to make a square shape around you.

Making a mad dash, you stopped abruptly and fell onto the seat of your pants when your one exit was blocked.

You were surrounded by a prison of angry, glowing red.

The bones were too tall for you to jump and they tingled with a raw energy that almost dared you to touch them. Close enough together that you knew you couldn't slip through them, you felt your heart rate increase dramatically.

Sitting up on your knees, you looked out through the space between the bones, over across the brook where someone dressed in mostly black stood.

They were tall, angular, and imposing, their armor freshly polished, dyed a deep black and accented red.

You could barely make it out from where you were, but you could see a number of deep scars run along their skull just over their left eye, their teeth set in a grimace that looked like it was always there.

"NO RUNNING, Y/N. I TRACKED THE RESIDUAL MAGIC ON YOUR SOUL ONCE, I CAN DO IT AGAIN."  He called, coming toward the edge of the opposite bank. His red scarf cascaded behind him, the end tattered as though it had been through a number of mishaps or even battles--you couldn't know for sure. "WHETHER YOU REMEMBER OR NOT, WE'VE COME TO RETRIEVE YOU."

 _Y/N_?

You know you'd heard that name before: back at the grocery store, the small skeleton with the bandana that grabbed you. He'd said the same name.

Was that your name? Your true one?

Surely your real one wasn't Kitten.

Standing on wobbling knees, your fingers wrapped around the bones trapping you. The magic there whispered against your skin, almost vibrating with warmth, like white noise.

He walked toward the water without hesitation, a line of bones forming a bridge as they disappeared and reappeared around him. Making his way over, his hands were clenched, his red eyelights trained on you intensely.

Away from the bars, you backed toward the other side of your cage, far from the skeleton monster that stood easily over the tops of the bones.

"RED IS CURRENTLY DEALING WITH AXE. I ASSUME CROOKS IS NEARBY?" Those names didn't mean anything to you, not a one of them, and apparently your look of confusion was evident.

The skeleton's sockets narrowed, "I SEE." His line of sight turned down the brook and toward where Papyrus sat, his pointed teeth clicking together.

You'd never seen this monster before, and neither Sans nor Papyrus made mention of him. Was he related to the blue-dressed one from the store, or a close friend?

"IT IS SAFE TO ASSUME THEY REFER TO THEMSELVES AS SANS AND PAPYRUS, THEN. OF COURSE THEY WOULD." He threw his arms over his chest, one long finger pointing at you, "BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT. YOU ARE RETURNING WITH ME TO THE MAIN HOUSE."

He took several steps forward, the bones in front of you disappearing as he entered the space. Like a trapped mouse, you scurried against the wall of bones to try and get away, a gloved hand stretching out toward you.

"THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD,Y/N." He nearly growled, his voice an octave lower than before.

A large hand snaked around your upper arm, tight like a vice.

And though you weren't sure how you'd done it in hindsight, your voice raw from disuse, you'd managed to open your mouth.

"Papyrus!"

\--

Papyrus shot from his seat, his fishing rod clattering on the ground as he turned toward the noise.

And though he'd never heard you speak, never heard you utter a word, he knew exactly to whom the voice belonged.

Darting along the bank, he threw himself up onto the rocks and forward. Papyrus sprinted along the bank, spotting a black shape in the distance he instantly recognised.

His soul cried out, his arm going forward on its own volition as a single, large, orange bone fell from the sky in front of Edge. It rammed deep into the soil, causing you to stumble back.

The other monster stopped, your arm trapped in his hold as he was halted from pulling you toward the treeline, the only thing keeping you standing.

And even then, you were practically dragged.

"STOP!" Papyrus all but bellowed. The brook stood between him and Edge, your line of sight finding him immediately.

Your face lit up, your cheeks flushed with fear and anxiety at being forcefully taken hold of and dragged off to parts unknown.

Edge turned to face Papyrus, his brow wrinkled with annoyance. "SO, THERE YOU ARE. I SEE YOU AND YOUR BROTHER HELD TRUE TO YOUR OATH. I SEE NO MISSING BODY PARTS." He faced you, his sanguine eyes trained on your shocked face.

"BUT THE REST REMAINS TO BE SEEN."

Papyrus was taken aback.

He knew what Edge meant.

Another cell of bones appeared, and with a short shove you teetered back into it. A few more bones appeared in place, successfully blocking you in again.

Your upper arm was on fire, the skeleton's grip tighter than what he'd obviously intended. Already, you knew there was going to be a bruise.

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO TAKE HER? IS SHE--" Papyrus stopped short, his voice cracking, "Is she your human? Is that where she's from?"

It almost sounded as though he were ashamed, as though the thought never crossed his mind. You stared at him through the bones, his shoulders fallen and face low.

Everything was starting to make sense.

"WE DIDN'T KNOW WHERE SHE WAS FROM. HOW COULD--" Edge cut him short, his hand in front of him.

"YOU COULD HAVE SIMPLY ASKED. OR WAS IT YOUR BROTHER WHO INSISTED YOU KEEP HER?" A short snort escaped him, "THAT IS WHY RED AND I ARE HERE. TO RETURN Y/N HOME BEFORE SOMETHING _TERRIBLE_ BEFALLS HER."

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Papyrus pleaded, "WE SIMPLY FOUND HER IN ONE OF MY NETS. HER SOUL WAS DAMAGED. I MADE SURE TO--"

Edge stopped him short with a wave of his hand, "I ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU DID. BOTH RED AND I DO. AND DON'T THINK WE'RE UNGRATEFUL!"

A cough left Edge's nonexistent throat at his outburst, "BUT THAT DOESN'T EXCUSE YOUR NEGLIGENCE. YOU SHOULD HAVE COME TO US FROM THE START."

"HOW WOULD WE HAVE KNOWN WHERE SHE WAS FROM? NOT EVEN SHE REMEMBERS." Papyrus took a step forward, but a snap of a bone against the ground stopped him. "SHE HASN'T SPOKEN A WORD SINCE WE MET. HOW _COULD_ WE HAVE KNOWN?"

"AND HOW DO WE KNOW YOU DIDN'T INTEND OTHER THINGS WITH Y/N? AS IF YOU WOULDN'T COMMIT AGAIN THE VERY REASON YOU'D BEEN BANISHED FROM THE MAIN HOUSE?" A pause passed Edge's teeth, "AMONGST OTHER THINGS YOU AND YOUR BROTHER COMMITTED."

"PLEASE DON'T. IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS." Papyrus pleaded. His beady sockets moved to you trapped behind a wall of bones, imprisoned in a glowing red cell of Edge's making. "I WOULD NEVER. NOT TO HER."

Edge stared you down over his pauldron, the red of his eyes so familiar, and yet you couldn't quite place it, "WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHY THEY LIVE ALONE IN THE WOODS, Y/N, AWAY FROM THE REST OF US? WHY WE TREAT THIS SO SERIOUSLY?"

You couldn't stand the look of hurt on Papyrus' face, small, glowing beads forming at the base of his sockets.

"THEY USED TO EAT HUMANS."

 

\--

** "Relic" is the nickname of my version of Gaster from my Patreon comic, Void-Bound Heart! His human is Quinn, a young woman who appeared in the Underground and was disguised by Alphys to look like a monster. In exchange, Quinn allows Alphys to study her soul and other human traits.


	13. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten finally meets Red face-to-face, and gets a glimpse of her old life.

\--

Chapter 13: Home

\--

 

There was a struggle on Papyrus's face. 

Staring him down, slightly out of shock for what had just been revealed to you, and mostly out of anxiety for being trapped in a cage, you watched as a few orange tears slid down his cheeks.

He didn't make a noise and tried his best to hide his face in the collar of his sweater, but the air was already tainted with dread.

"THEY MAY CLAIM NOT TO EAT HUMANS NOW, Y/N." The black and red-clad skeleton told you. Edge was his name. "BUT YOU MUST UNDERSTAND HOW THIS IS AN ISSUE. IF NOT FOR THAT, THEN YOUR OWN WELL-BEING."

Of course such an accusation was an issue, but you'd never been given a reason to believe that the sweet, unassuming monster across the brook had eaten those of your kind. And even if he had, surely he had justification for it. Right?

Papyrus had been nothing but caring and kind to you in the short time that you'd known him, always making sure you were fed, given a place to sleep, and taken care of when you'd fallen ill. Even if he'd committed such an act in the past (for reasons you still didn't know), you couldn't just condemn him at the word of a monster you didn't know or remember.

Papyrus lifted his head and wiped away the wet streaks from his cheekbones, taking one long step onto the first boulder in the water. "WE DID EAT HUMANS, KITTEN. WHERE WE CAME FROM, WE DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE." He stood at the edge of the rock, preparing to move to the next one. His voice was shaky, laced with apprehension.

"BUT AFTER COMING TO THE SURFACE, WE HAVEN'T HAD A NEED." He sucked in a deep breath and wiped at his face again. "DOWN THERE, WE HAD TO EAT WHAT WE COULD. EVERYONE WAS STARVING. EDGE," He paused, his small sockets trained on the monster in front of you, "WOULDN'T YOU HAVE DONE THE SAME IF YOUR BROTHER WAS STARVING?"

Edge was silent, his arms crossed defensively.

From where you stood, you couldn't make out the look on Edge’s face, but there was a heavy tension hovering around him.

Papyrus stepped onto the next rock, "SANS NEVER ATE HUMANS, THOUGH. HE… He was the one who killed them for us to eat. For _all_ of Snowdin to eat."

You continued to peer out at Papyrus as he stepped forward, his fingers fiddling nervously with the end of his sweater, "AND WE STRUGGLED AT FIRST WHEN WE ARRIVED. I WON'T LIE. THE URGE WAS STILL THERE. AND I," His eyes landed on you behind Edge's bones, "I FELT IT AGAIN WHEN WE MET."

A shiver ran up and down your spine, your hold on the bones tightening. "BUT SINCE I'VE COME TO KNOW YOU, THOSE FEELING HAVE GONE. I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU, KITTEN." His sockets trained on Edge sharply, his right one flashing a bright orange for a brief moment, " **TRUST ME.** "

"BE THAT AS IT MAY, IF I MUST BE BRANDED A VILLAIN BY TELLING YOU THE TRUTH, THEN SO BE IT." Edge turned on his heel and stared at you over the glowing red of his bones, "THE ONLY WAY YOU ARE TRULY GOING TO GET HELP IS TO RETURN WITH US. CROOKS AND AXE ARE NOT THE PROPER ENVIRONMENT IN WHICH YOU CAN HEAL."

"BUT WE'VE TAKEN CARE OF HER SO FAR!" Papyrus jumped to the last stone, "WHY CAN'T SHE STAY WITH US WHILE SHE GETS TREATED?"

That question caused Edge to whip around, his tattered cape flicking about, "BECAUSE WHY SHOULD I TRUST Y/N TO BE AROUND AXE, WHO WILLINGLY ADMITTED HE KNEW WHERE SHE'D COME FROM?" 

You knew he meant Sans, Papyrus staggering back a bit at the accusation. "AROUND SOMEONE WHO WITHHELD INFORMATION NOT ONLY FROM US, BUT FROM YOU?"

"WHY WOULD I ALLOW SUCH NEGLIGENCE TO CONTINUE? THINK OF THE REALITY OF THE SITUATION." Edge let out a deep huff, and let his arms fall to his sides.

His voice grew softer, though not any quieter, "IF YOU WERE IN SUCH A POSITION: DIDN'T KNOW WHO OR WHERE YOU WERE, BUT WERE SUDDENLY PRESENTED WITH AN OPPORTUNITY TO REMEMBER, WOULD YOU NOT TAKE IT?"

Papyrus made his way onto the bank, his hands completely knotted in his sweater, "OF COURSE I WOULD." His eyes fell to you, "BUT WHY NOT LET HER CHOOSE?"

It was a fair point. You had every right to choose where you should go: whether it be back with Sans and Papyrus, or with Edge and whoever else resided with him. It couldn't have been right to let someone else decide certain things for you, though you had to admit souls were a subject to which you still weren't privy.

Edge's answer was quick and to the point, blunt and indifferent, "BECAUSE THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WHAT YOU WANT AND WHAT YOU NEED. IF Y/N IS TO GET BETTER, SHE MUST BE AROUND THOSE THAN CAN HELP HER. IF AND WHEN SHE HAS RECOVERED, THEN SHE MAY CHOOSE WHERE TO STAY."

"BUT FOR NOW, IT IS NOT CONDUCIVE FOR HER TO REMAIN NEAR AXE. HE HAS MANIPULATED THIS SITUATION FAR ENOUGH. HE HAS LIED TO HER VIA OMISSION." He pointed a sharp finger at Papyrus, "AND TO YOU, AS WELL." 

The bones around you vanished into thin shards with the snap of a finger, the shards floating through the air on invisible wind until they faded into nothing.

"I'LL PERMIT YOU TO VISIT HER DURING HER RECOVERY, BUT I BAN AXE FROM DOING SO." Edge stepped to the side, allowing you to breathe fully for the first time since being trapped. 

Down the slope of his pauldron, he gave you a look, one that said “go on.”

Skittish, you took a step away from where the bones held you, toward Papyrus. Edge's eyelights followed you, deep red and commanding. They burned into your back even as you slowly moved closer to the other monster.

Papyrus appeared so downtrodden, his sockets closed tightly as he hung his head in remorse. He was attempting to hide tears from you, his teeth clenched to the point of groaning.

You could tell by the pain on his face that he didn't want to let you go, but Edge spoke the truth. It truly wasn't a matter of what you or Papyrus wanted, it was what you needed to get better.

They just didn't have the resources to help you regain yourself, or to fully heal whatever had happened to you. Even now, you could feel a deep thrum in your chest, that familiar pang you'd felt not too long ago before you'd collapsed in the garden.

It was coming back.

And with the knowledge that Sans kept information from you, on where you’d come from, who you were or might have been? That was something you would certainly have to address. Perhaps with a slap.

If it was true, of course.

Your shoes crunched the rocks underfoot at the bank of the brook, Papyrus refusing to open his eyes and look at you. Even then, you could see the small quakes in his shoulders, the way his fingers nearly tore into his sweater front. He was trying his best to keep himself in check, to keep more tears from falling, but it was a battle he was bound to lose.

Gently, you placed a hand at the center of his ribs, and watched as his sockets barely opened. Blurry, he stared down at you, his jagged teeth parted in a sad smile.

Slowly, he lowered himself down onto his knees so he could look you in the eye, his cheeks damp as you saw the faint glow of eyelights in his sockets. "I was going to tell you eventually." He admitted in a whisper, weak and tired, "I just didn't want to scare you away."

Taking up the sleeve of your coat over your hand, you ran it softly across his cheeks, wiping away the newest tears that formed. It wasn't much, you knew, but it was something.

And without a second thought, you stepped closer between his legs and wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, cradling him. He pushed his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder, hidden from the other monster who pretended he wasn't watching.

Papyrus knew Edge was eyeing him like a hawk.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, your coat tangled in his fingers as he held you close. A bit of wetness soaked through to your shoulder, and even though he made no noise you knew he was hiding his tears.

With one hand, you placed it on the back of his skull and simply pet him, hoping your attempts to soothe him would work. 

His quaking shoulders calmed as your hand moved from his skull down to his vertebrae, then back up. It was calming you as much as it was him, your mind racing about what was to happen next.

You were to be taken away, then, back to where you came from. You knew deep down it was a necessity--a way to remember yourself by being around those who'd supposedly cared about you. You'd wanted to go into town anyway, to the police station to see if a missing persons report had been filed--to see if anyone knew you from before.

It might have been better this way. A little abrupt and taxing on both you and Papyrus, and yet it had to happen.

But it also meant leaving the tranquility you'd found with Papyrus, and even Sans sometimes (the latter currently sitting in the timeout corner of your thoughts).

Or, Axe and Crooks, as you assumed they would be called around you. You weren't sure if you would get used to that. Not quickly, anyway.

Pulling away just enough that you could peer at Papyrus, you placed your hands along his jaw. He kept his face turned down, sockets lidded, even as you made him look up even a little.

A small kiss was placed against the bridge of his nose, causing him to finally glance up at you. "It's not goodbye. I know it's not. I just wish it didn't have to happen like this." His voice was wispy and weak, thin like spider silk.

His teeth grazed your cheek, soft enough to keep from scraping your skin. "He's right." He said quietly next to your ear, "I can see the wound coming back on your soul."

Papyrus nuzzled against your jaw, and made to stand up. Hands on your shoulders, he held onto you even as you turned to face Edge. "You need someone better than me to fix it."

With the large skeleton at your back, you didn’t feel quite as intimidated by the red and black-clad monster nearby. You simply raised your chin high and stared him down, your eyes hot from tears that sat just behind them.

“YOU HONESTLY DON’T REMEMBER ME?” Edge asked, his arms still crossed over his chest. This made you shake your head in reply, making a deep huff escape through the skeleton’s nose. “THIS MAKES THINGS DIFFICULT.”

“REGARDLESS, I NEED TO RETRIEVE MY BROTHER. AND YOURS,” he pointed at Papyrus quickly, his hand a blur of red, “HAD BETTER HAVE BEHAVED HIMSELF. I WILL HOLD HIM ACCOUNTABLE FOR HIS WRONGDOINGS, PAST AND PRESENT.”

“OF COURSE.” Papyrus replied more steadily than you thought he would, the hands on your shoulders tight, though not uncomfortable. It was as though he wanted to remind you he was there, that if you needed him all you had to do was… maybe not say, but perhaps touch him. “BUT I’M WORRIED YOU LEFT THE TWO OF THEM ALONE. YOU KNOW HOW THEY WERE WHEN—“

“OBVIOUSLY I KNOW!” Edge trudged his way forward, performing his small feat of magic to cross the brook again without jumping the stones.

Just as Papyrus helped you across the first stone, a loud hum filled the air, like the sound of an electrical transformer close to exploding: a loud hiss, a charge, a shift in the space around the forest.

And suddenly, you found yourself pulled from the ground and barreling through the woods, held close to Papyrus’ chest. He clutched you tightly, your legs pulled in over his arm, your head tucked under his chin as Edge followed not far behind. You held to his sweater as the world sped by in a blur, the forest simple green and brown shapes.

You had no idea he could move so fast.

It wasn't until you came upon a familiar clearing that the smell of ozone overtook you.

There were several large divots in the earth, as though the ground was torn asunder by a flying object, though nothing could be seen. Instead, the ground was grooved in several places, smoking red and black where the earth had been (you assumed) vaporized.

Bones dotted the yard as well, stabbed deep  into the soil, interspersed through the divots. Some of them were already beginning to fade out of existence, much like how Edge's had.

It was only then that you noticed a familiar figure standing amongst the mess, his ratty blue coat and unkempt fur fringe giving him away as Sans. But he paid no mind to the three of you, his eye trained on another skeleton dressed similarly in color to Edge himself.

The new monster jumped from atop the roof of the cabin, his left hand raised above him as he threw it down in midair. A surge of what you could only describe as gravity magic came down on Axe, the skeleton bowing for only a brief moment before he slingshot back to stop a bone from hitting his skull.

The two of them landed roughly against the ground as they collided, the red and black one tearing at Sans' coat with his sharpened teeth until it nearly tore the shoulder off.

Papyrus made quick work of setting you down, sure to be gentle but swift as he ran toward his brother. "SANS, STOP!" He yelled, just as Sans kicked the other monster off of him.

Sans rolled over and staggered to stand, his red eye extinguished even as he gazed at his brother running toward him. His shoulders rose and fell heavily, his skull dotted with cracks and mars that hadn't been there before.

But as those black sockets landed on you, the grin on his cheeks only widened.

The new skeleton shot a glance in the direction Sans had been looking, only for his face to fall flat when his gaze struck your form..

His sharp teeth parted, his face fallen with what you could only assume was shock.

There was a familiar spark there, an energy you knew you remembered deep down in your heart. One that immediately called out to the monster now watching you. A tug sounded in your chest, strong, almost guiding you toward him.

That reverie was broken, however, when Sans jumped forward and landed a swift kick to his ribs, sending him scuttling back.

He teetered, his focus tearing from you to land on Sans and Papyrus as the latter of the two attempted to drag his brother away futilely. The former only laughed darkly, a dead weight in his brother's arms.

The red and black skeleton let out a deep yell, and on instinct Edge pulled you behind him, his tattered cape running down the slope of your back.

Above the monster, a large, jagged skull materialized, bigger than you by several feet in either direction. Its maw held a number of long, sharp canines, two red eyes boring down on Sans and Papyrus not far from it.

The skull's mouth opened wide, the monster beneath it holding his hand on high as he prepared to order his beast to attack.

Just as a ball of energy began to form between its teeth, it was put to an abrupt end. A wide beam of white and blue energy shot across the clearing, barely missing the cabin and the skeleton next to it. But when the beam faded to nothing, the large skull was nowhere to be found.

Edge stood guard in front of you still, hiding you behind the thick material of his armor. You opened your eyes, not remembering when you'd closed them, and glanced out toward the monster who attempted to strike Sans and Papyrus. 

His skull was coated in red beads of sweat, his mouth hanging open as he breathed deep to ground himself. His one eyelight twitched from Sans, to you, and then off into the distance.

His teeth snapped shut with a loud clack.

A new skeleton monster stepped forward, one you hadn't seen yet. He held a familiar aura about him that all the others had, right down to the way he carried himself and the lazy grin on his face.

You moved Edge's cape out of the way and watched the newcomer approach, his left eye flashing blue and yellow for only another second before it faded to white.

Another one of those large skulls loomed behind him, though less angular and jagged than the other. That soon vanished as well, disappearing without a trace.

"hate to show up uninvited, but I heard through the grapevine there was a little get together goin' on." He started, shoving his hands into the pockets of his… _blue coat_. One not dissimilar to Sans'.

He came forward on slippered feet, the pink fabric dirtied by the walk from… wherever it was he came from. "crooks, axe, been a while." He continued casually, "red, nice to know you've been keepin' secrets again, buddy."

When his two white eyelights landed on you, he shook his head, his sockets closing in a weak smile, "hey, kid." He started with a chuckle, though it was laced with a tinge of you could call sadness, "it's good to see ya in one piece. glad you haven't been _bonely_."

Another skeleton you must have known.

Just how many of them were there that you couldn't recall?

You tried your damnedest to wrack your brain for any kind of memory, but nothing would come to you. The only thing you had was the sense that he was familiar, and that was all.

Instead, you ducked a bit behind Edge again, who begrudgingly began to pull away toward who you assumed was his brother. His cape caught on your head as he went, making you trip a bit, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

That suddenly left you out in the open, though the danger seemed to have passed at that point.

Out and away from Edge and Red, Sans and Papyrus were huddled in the grass. They looked as though they'd been through hell that day, and you couldn't hear whatever it was Papyrus was whispering.

Perhaps it was for the best.

He held Sans close, coiled up in his arms even as the red of Sans' eye refused to come back.

It wasn't a comforting look. That, combined with the smile that still sat on his skull, his appearance was disconcerting. He looked like a broken China doll, limp and unmoving, face permanently carved into an unreadable expression.

Still, the threat was gone, though the remnants of the battle they'd been having was obvious in the landscape around you.

They'd certainly done a number on the earth, the trees circled around the cabin, part of the garden, and even the small stone path that led down the hill.

You hoped the chickens were alright, most of all Lydian. Papyrus would have been devastated if something happened to them.

"so, this is where you've been, huh?" The blue-clad newcomer asked as a sigh passed through his clenched teeth. Hands still stuffed in his pockets, he moved toward you, "black and mutt were making a ruckus back home about axe and crooks, and I knew I had to check it out."

Not far from you, he came to a stop, "you alright?"

The way he spoke said he was familiar with you. It was almost too casual, too informal. And all of it screamed of Sans in a way you couldn't quite describe.

You simply nodded your head and peered around the skeleton to watch Papyrus stand in the distance. At his feet, Sans remained on the ground, but there was a faint red glow from within his left eye socket.

He looked exhausted.

As much as you didn't want to be spiteful, the word "good" came to mind.

Close to Edge, the other red and black monster steadied himself and shook the dust from his coat. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent, the one gold tooth in his grimace shining as he turned his head toward you.

A deep breath filled his chest and he adjusted the spiked collar around his neck nervously. Edge didn't seem to share the sentiment.

One wobbly red eye landed on you, and the frown that was there quirked up if only a little, "hey, kitten." He started weakly, his voice deeper than what you'd expected.

_He called you "kitten"._

There was something terribly familiar about him, something that made the center of your chest ache. It almost felt as though someone were tugging you toward him, the ache that sat in your soul settling for a moment as you simply stated at one another.

The name "Kitten" was natural coming out of him, like you'd heard it so many times before--though not like from Sans or Papyrus.

No, this had a different weight to it.

You knew this particular monster must have said it a thousand times over.

His sockets drooped when he noticed your befuddled expression, a single bead of red sweat sliding down the side of his skull. "y'don't recognise me, do ya?"

You simply shook your head, walking up to meet him halfway.

For a moment, you glanced off to the side, noticing the way the Papyrus and Sans were currently being talked to by the other skeleton in the blue coat. The new monster looked confused, a strange glance sent your way when Papyrus pointed at his head and then to you.

You could only imagine what they were talking about.

With Sans and the new skeleton nearly side-by-side, they looked almost identical.

Papyrus appeared distraught, his hands moving about from one point to the other, but you couldn't make out the words. The Sans-looking one simply stood there and listened intently.

"I was the one who gave you that, y'know." The monster in front of you claimed weakly, his voice low. You turned your gaze back to him, only to see his focus trained on the bracelet around your wrist. "I know you don't remember right now, but you…"

His eyes turned to the ground before closing, a hand on the back of his neck, "you were _my kitten_."

The way he said that made your heart clench.

The raw emotion he held on his face spoke volumes.

If you'd, and surely you had, known him from before you'd forgotten everything, it was obvious from just how destroyed he looked. The burning in your chest only added to it.

Raising your wrist to your face, you looked down to the bracelet on your arm, the word "KITTEN" gleaming in the light. If what he said was true, you two must have been terribly close.

"I ain't gonna forgive him for what he did to you." He added, his voice quiet, not much more than a whisper. "but that's not what I'm worried about right now."

Edge came up behind the shorter skeleton and pushed him forward a bit, "QUIT BEING CONTRITE. INTRODUCE YOURSELF."

The shorter skeleton let his grin fall, his one gold tooth hidden as his grin formed into a thin line. "I, uh…" he extended one thick, bony hand toward you, his eyes searching your face tightly, "red. I'm red."

The hand in front of you trembled somewhat, Red's attempt to hide his anxiety failing him. With a nod, you brought up your own and took his.

The bones were soft, dotted with a number of rough calcifications and cracks. There was a warmth there that was comforting, a feeling you knew was familiar and welcome. 

You gave his hand a few gentle shakes and went to pull back--

But Red hadn't let go.

Together, your eyes locked, and you found it hard to look away. 

There had to be something between you, at least in the past. That was the only explanation for why he was acting in such a way. That or an instant crush, but you wouldn't dare be so vain.

Part of you became scared, his fingers tightening unconsciously around yours. And it wasn't until Edge knocked Red on the head with the butt of his hand that your own was relinquished.

Red gave a weak chuckle and shoved his hand deep into his coat pocket. From the looks of it, Sans had done a number to him.

There were holes torn in the fabric of his coat, a faint glimmer of dirt or dust on it. It was as much an explanation as a skeleton sweating, so you simply accepted it.

There were a few cracks on the crown of his head and just below his left eye, though they looked old and already healed. Still, you felt a bit of a worry at the sight.

From the other end of the yard, the blue-coated monster walked toward you, his sockets closed in thought. It wasn't until he was a few feet away that he opened them and motioned to you with a nod.

"I've been… _enlightened_ on the situation. you don't remember anything at all?" He started, skepticism written all over his skull. 

You simply nodded, and the skeleton let out a deep sigh. "damn it, stretch."

There was a moment of quiet while he got his thoughts together, the burn of Red's eye felt on the side of your head. "crooks and I came to an agreement about a few things, but I'm gonna stay here a bit and have a **talk** with axe."

His white eyelights turned to you, a look of constant weariness etched in them, "and as for you," a huff shot out from between his teeth quickly, and for a moment you were afraid he was irritated.

"I'm glad you're safe, kid. crooks did a good job."

There came a loud "pssh" from beside you, Red staring away from you and the other monster. His sockets were narrowed, his pointed teeth grating against one another, his shoulders tight around his jaw.

"I know it's sudden, but I'm sure edge has already told you what's gotta happen." Edge cleared his throat in confirmation, "you've liked it here, but we've gotta get you looked at, okay? soul damage isn't something we can tiptoe around."

"NO, IT ISN'T." Edge added loudly enough that Papyrus snapped to attention from across the yard. "YOU'RE COMING HOME. WE WILL SEE YOU LATER, VANILLA."

He started toward what was left of the path, purposefully avoiding the large chunks of Earth now missing. "RED, STOP BOONDOGGLING."

Vanilla only shook his head at the overdramatic display. "don't worry, y/n. crooks isn't in trouble. can't say that much for axe, though."

On cue, Papyrus shuffled up to your group, looking so out of place towering above you all. "IF I COULD TALK TO KITTEN FOR A MOMENT." Red gave a very audible growl, only to be shushed by Vanilla. "PLEASE."

Without waiting for one of them to answer for you, you walked forward and took the hand that was outstretched. Together, you and Papyrus walked far enough away that he could speak just a little quieter. 

"Vanilla is a good monster." He started, your hand still in his. Unlike with Red, the hold was loose but welcoming, not intense of fearful like the other's had been. "He's going to help."

You could tell there were unshed tears sitting in his eyes, waiting to fall even though he tried his best to force them back, "But I must stay here. Sans is…" the both of you turned to look where he'd left Sans.

The skeleton sat alone in the middle of the yard, his blank sockets aimed toward the ground even as Vanilla walked up to him. He didn't seem at all bothered by the consequences that were about to come down on him--that grin of his was still very much present.

"I will visit, though. And," Papyrus' free hand moved to your shoulder, gently sliding up to sit just under your jaw, "Please tell me you'll visit, too?"

The tears you'd been trying to hold back fell abruptly, happily so. Papyrus mimicked what you'd done earlier, his hands finding their way to cup at your cheeks, making you look up at him.

His forehead touched against yours. So gentle and endearing. So very much--

A sound that could only be described as a grumble mixed with a cough and a snort echoed behind you.

And even before you turned to glare, you knew it had been Red.

 

\--

 

The walk back home was… awkward.

For just a second, Red thought of changing the home screen of your phone back to the picture of you and him… but he was filled with trepidation.

How would you feel seeing a photo of yourself with some unknown monster, intimately so, plastered on your phone?

Silently, he spun it around in his coat pocket, his rings clacking against the metal and glass. He'd give it back to you once you were settled in, maybe tell you to look through the pictures on the phone yourself instead of trying to shove it in your face.

Already, you were a bit wary of him.

Not scared.

But he was reminded of when you first met almost two years ago. Even then, you hadn't let your guard down completely for a month or so (he had himself to blame for that--his hand buzzer wasn't the best way to greet people, much less attractive humans).

No, he'd nudge you in the right direction, but would try not to force anything on you until you were ready.

Letting out a rumbling sigh, Red ran his hand down his face and shuffled a bit faster down the path, his sneakers kicking up a bit of dust and pebbles as he walked.

You were walking ahead of him, not too far, but enough that he wanted to speed up a tad. He didn't have to be right up on you to do a CHECK on your soul.

_Even though he already knew what he'd see._

He'd already scanned it several times since you all left the Crooked Bros house. It shouldn't have surprised him every time he looked.

The hole was trying to come back. Slowly, and not nearly as large as the last time, but enough that it was going to be a big problem soon. And you hardly knew what any of it meant, just like any other human.

Green and G couldn't come fast enough. The weekend felt too far away, too long a time for you to go without their aid.

Just then, Red had an epiphany.

He'd call them himself, tell them to come early, and get you looked at as soon as possible. Why wait until the weekend when the festival was in full gear? It would be too chaotic, then. Too busy.

Red wanted you seen to, and fast.

But the last thing he wanted was to make the damage worse. He'd have to take it slow, ease you back into things, hopefully spark some memory in the back of your mind somewhere.

He didn't want to imagine you forgetting him forever. After everything you two shared, he would be devastated.

Not dusted. _Just..._

Red wouldn't fall down because of it. But he'd want to, he knew that without a doubt.

Now wasn't the time to dwell, though. 

Looking at you, he watched how Edge stuck close--like he'd always done--and yet didn't say a word. His size and looks usually kept most humans and monsters away from you, though right now his presence was simply a comfort.

Red couldn't help but smile a little.

Everything would work out.

You'd remember them all soon.

**_And then he'd deal with Stretch._**

\--

The "Main House" as the skeletons around you liked to call it, was a classic mountain-style home made of deep red wood and stone, with three floors that jutted out from the lush grass around it.

The front of it held a large section of windows, each no less than eight to ten feet high, one of them boarded up as it was assumed broken.

Despite that, you found yourself awestruck by the size of it, by the balcony deck that wrapped around the second floor, and another, smaller one on the third.

There was a path made of broken slate slabs laid in the grass, leading up to the home and around to what you assumed may have been a pool. Small lanterns lined the path up to the home, unlit in the day. The grass was _mostly_ neatly trimmed, but there were several spots where the ground looked upturned and burnt.

What was it with these skeletons and destroying the land around their homes?

You had to admit, though, you were excited to see the inside of it despite your current situation.

Really, you had no idea such a house existed nearby, much less how you'd missed it on the walks you'd taken with Sans and Papyrus. It wasn't too far from the cabin, close enough that could may have noticed the lights on a particularly dark night.

You wondered for a moment if they'd steered you away purposefully.

Well, Sans, anyway.

If what was revealed to you was true, Papyrus hadn't known any more than you did about the situation. Sans was the main culprit when it came to keeping information from you, his own brother left in the dark alongside you.

Oh, poor Papyrus.

You hoped… was his name Vanilla? You hoped Vanilla wasn't too hard on him. Sans, perhaps, but not Papyrus.

There was so much going on, so many mixed signals, and things hidden, it left your head spinning and chest aching. 

Back there, you hadn't wanted to leave Papyrus behind, but you knew you had to go back with the others.

If only for a while.

_It didn't have to be forever._

And he could visit you, right? That's what he said. It wasn't a promise, but it felt like one.

The skeleton next to you, Edge, was the first to walk up to the main door, his heeled boots clicking against the porch as he quickened his gait. Beating you to the door, he stood with his arms crossed until you got close, letting one fall to have his hand sit on the knob of the front entrance.

Behind you, Red sauntered up, his head held low, eyes tired and sunken. His sneakers squeaked on the slate with each step, until at last he hoisted himself onto the porch tiredly.

He looked close to passing out.

You wondered if he would be alright. Part of you really hoped he would. The other part of you wished he would stop staring so hard at your chest.

_It felt odd._

"LISTEN CLOSE, Y/N." You spun to face Edge, looking up to catch his eyes flare, "THIS WAS--IS--YOUR HOME. DO NOT FEEL AS THOUGH YOU CANNOT DO AS YOU PLEASE. BUT FOR NOW," He flicked his eyes to the right as though thinking through his next words, "DO AS YOU PLEASE… GENTLY."

That. That was a curious way to say that.

You weren't quite sure what he meant, in all honesty. Perhaps he simply meant not to overexert yourself, or get into trouble. You may not have remembered yourself, but you still had _some_ modicum of civility.

Opening the door, Edge took up the whole of the frame, and leaned inside. His head darted this way and that, looking for anything that may cause a disturbance.

Pleased, he took the first step in and stood off to the side, motioning for you to enter as well.

With a gentle nudge to your back by Red, you crossed the threshold and entered.

The living room was massive and open, a second floor walkway crossing over your head about fifteen feet up on the far wall, a wide staircase of red wood to the left that led to the second floor.

You knew if the broken window was fixed, the room would have been bathed in so much light.

On one of the couches, another skeleton slept, splayed out across the whole of the piece of furniture. His long coat and even longer legs dangled over the arm, his hood pulled up to cover his eye sockets from the light.

You only supposed he was asleep from the almost fake snoring coming out of his nose. The way his teeth clicked when your eyes landed on him wasn't assuring either.

Allowing Red to close the door behind you, you blindly followed behind Edge. 

You noted the stone fireplace in the wall to the left, the centerpiece of the living room, circled by a number of couches and chairs. There was a large coffee table in the middle, several mugs on it as well as an empty wine glass. A handheld game system was on the table as well, colored light blue and dotted with what you thought were small, gold star stickers.

Under the second floor walkway, an arch led into a wide kitchen, illuminated by the midday light. No one appeared to be inside, though there were several plates sitting on the island under a rack of heavy pots and pans hanging from the ceiling.

Edge made his way across the room and toward the stairway on the left side, his steps heavy and calculated.

But he was stopped short.

"bro, hang on, I wanna check somethin'." Red pushed past you, a hand on your shoulder as he went, and stomped up the stairs to the second floor landing. You couldn't see anything from where you were at, but a sudden knock on the wall caught your attention.

"shut that fuckin' door, blue." You heard a scathing whisper from whom you assumed was Red, "y'ain't supposed to be talkin' to him."

"WHY?" The next voice was far easier to make out, their volume similar to that of Papyrus or Edge. There was a bite to that one word, and it spoke volumes concerning the tension currently floating around you.

"cuz I don't want her to see him. so fuckin' close it." Red hissed before you heard the telltale signs that he was coming back down the stairs.

Edge brought his gaze to you, judging your expression as you stood awkwardly at the base of the staircase. Your hands knotted in the pockets of your coat, the two of you held eye contact for an intimate amount of time before you cleared your throat and looked away.

Only for your eyes to land on the skeleton who'd been sleeping on the couch. His head was poking over the back of it, two lazy sockets staring at you from under a furred hood.

He didn't say anything.

Only stared.

Because what were manners, anyway, when staring creepily said everything?

Red came back into view, his mouth curled in a sneer before his focus landed on you. And suddenly, his face softened, went slack just at the sight.

"c'mon. wanna show you somethin'." He said simply, before turning to head upstairs again.

You took the first step and went up as well, Edge trailing behind you a few steps down. You almost wished you let him go first. With those legs of his, he could easily take the stairs two or three at a time.

Coming up on the landing, Red stopped you short with a hand.

The sound of a door closing in the hall could be heard before a loud "MWEH" filled the air.

It was only then that Red let you continue.

When you breached the landing, you were greeted by a familiar-looking bandana-wearing skeleton. There were large, blue stars in his sockets, his hands gloved, and shirt neatly pressed.

The little skeleton from the store.

When you two spotted each other, his sockets went wide, his mouth falling open, "Y/N! YOU'RE HOME!" He all but yelled right before he raced toward you.

Luckily, Red caught him and held him at arm's length, the smaller skeleton's face scrunched up in annoyance.

Edge accidentally bumped you forward as he came into the hall behind you. You were surprised his pauldrons managed to fit in the space, much less up the stairs. And with Red and the small monster in front of you, the hall was quickly becoming cramped.

The small skeleton's face fell as a realisation hit him. He pulled away from Red with a loud grunt and clenched his fists at his side, his eyes moving to a closed door to his left--the one he, no doubt, had open moments before.

"YOU…" Small, azure tears were forming in his eyes, "I'M HAPPY YOU'RE BACK HOME, Y/N, AND HE IS, TOO!"

He? Who was he?

The short monster banged on the door next to him, the thick wood shaking. There was no noise from inside. "HE DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT, Y/N! HE WAS ONLY--"

" _knock_ it off, blue." Red warned, and pushed toward him, "don't start talkin' about him." Blue glared at Red, and together they turned to stare at you, "not yet."

That wasn't disconcerting at all.

"kitten's having a bad enough time as is, no thanks to you-know-who. she don't remember any of us." Those words held a sour note to them you didn't miss, "do ya?"

You shook your head as they both continued to stare you down, Edge's eyes burning into the back of your skull. You wished he would stop.

Blue's eyes turned to the floor and he let out a shaky huff from between his teeth, his cheeks puffy. "THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE."

"do a CHECK, then get back to me." Red nodded for you to follow, but you found it hard to move.

Blue was staring at you intently, his star eyes fading into faint circles of blue. All before his sockets widened even further and he let his jaw drop, "A HOLE IS THERE! FROM PAP--"

Two loud "SHHHs" filled the hall just as Blue yelled, and he immediately quieted.

He shuffled toward you slowly, his hands clenched together, and focused on your face. "YOU REALLY DON'T REMEMBER, Y/N?"

All you could do was grimace and shake your head.

What you could only describe as a "mweh" escaped him, sad and little, and he moved out of the middle of the hall. "BUT YOU'RE GOING TO GET BETTER, RIGHT?"

"green and g will be here soon, blue." Red assured, suddenly gentle. "they'll get her back to normal. nothin' to worry about."

His tone said he didn't quite believe his own words.

Regardless, Edge moved you forward down the hall, past the room Blue was standing in front of initially.

There was an aura about it that made you uncomfortable, something that screamed at you to stay away.

**Far away.**

Passing several other rooms before you came to a door at the very end. Blue followed behind the three of you without a word, one hand holding to part of Edge's tattered cape.

There was a faint sweet smell that lingered in the air around the door, familiar but you couldn't quite name it.

And when Red opened the door for you, you were struck by a sudden realisation:

This was your room.

You knew it was.

But at the same time, it felt so foreign, so intangible and taboo.

Red stepped out of the way and let you enter, keeping Blue and Edge out of the room so you could experience it for yourself.

The floor under your shoes creaked slightly, but you hardly noticed as you took everything in.

The ceiling was high and vaulted, a number of skylights dotting it. There were two balcony doors on the far wall leading to what you could only imagine was one of those lavish balconies, blocked somewhat by thin curtains.

The bed was soft and comfortable in appearance, the quilt atop it your favourite color. And on your pillow sat a small, blue platypus, lounging lazily on its belly.

The small skeleton. Blue.

_He gave that to you._

You stood in the center of the room and tried to take it all in: the sights, the smells, the way the air felt around you. It screamed of comfort and familiarity, and yet you found it difficult to claw yourself out of the corner your own mind had put you in.

Blue was the first to shove into the room, squeaking his way over to the dresser on the far wall. He plucked up the corkboard that sat there and moved back toward you, but not before he took up one of the photos that may have fallen under the board. Turning the board around so you could see the numerous photos pinned to its surface, he grinned at you from behind it.

"LOOK, Y/N, DON'T YOU REMEMBER ANY OF THESE?" A gloved finger pointed at a photo of a pool, one you assumed was out in the backyard, where Blue was stood prominently on a float.

And there you were in the pool, arms already out to catch him, sure he would fall off the pool float and into the water.

"AND HERE'S RED! SEE?" You did, indeed, see the picture of you and the nearby monster almost uncomfortably close, at what you could only assume was a concert. A familiar bracelet was around your wrist, your arm wrapped over Red's shoulder.

His sharp teeth were pressed lovingly against your cheek, his phalanges buried in your shirt.

"WHAT ABOUT THIS ONE FROM GYFTMAS?" He thrust a scratched up photo in your direction, one that he'd swiped up from the dresser before coming over. You took a second to collect what he'd said before gingerly taking the photo in his hand.

Before immediately dropping it to the floor as if it shocked you.

There was a sharp pain in your chest when you looked upon it, sending you stepping back several feet away from Blue.

The photo had been of you, sat alongside another skeleton dressed in orange. The very sight of him sent a bolt of pain coursing through your body so strong that you had no choice but to drop the photo and clamber back.

"alright, blue, give her some space." Red warned, coming into the room to swipe the offending picture off the floor. You didn't notice him slip it into his pocket. "let her get her bearings before you start doin' that shit."

Blue made a face at Red, but relented nonetheless. He gently placed the corkboard back where he found it and waited with his arms crossed. "JUST TRYING TO HELP."

"I know it's gotta feel…" Red paused, his one eyelight making it to your face for only a second, " _weird_ , bein' here with a bunch of monsters you don't remember. y'ain't gotta be scared. but, uh." He skulked over to you, taking something out of his pocket.

It was a phone. The screen was cracked down the middle, small scuffs around its edges and corners from where it had seen some damage.

You took it from Red, your fingers brushing for only a second, and flipped it around in your hand. The weight felt right in your palm, your broken reflection staring you in the face.

"everyone's in there. you made sure to, uh," a coy smile crept over Red's features, "give everyone contact pictures. maybe take a look through the rest of 'em, yeah?"

He glanced back at Edge, who still hadn't entered the room, "we'll let you have a few minutes to yourself."

Motioning for Blue to follow, Red made his way to the door and walked under his brother's arm. With an unreadable look, Blue followed suit and disappeared into the hall, just barely heard talking to Red outside.

All who remained was Edge, who stood firmly in the doorway, "DO NOT HESITATE TO CALL ONE OF US." And with that, he turned on his heel and shut the door quietly behind him.

And you immediately shuffled over and locked it.

You still didn't know if you could trust them all. 

If Papyrus had come along with you, you wouldn't have been so scared suddenly. Trapped alone, even though figuratively, in a large house with monsters who claimed they knew you--It was all too much.

And the evidence surrounding you hadn't helped. The photos on the board, the plush on your bed, the smell of the room, and the comfort it brought just by your being there.

It was terrifyingly comfortable.

And what of that photo Blue showed you? Just merely looking at it sent a shot of fear straight into your heart. 

Whoever it was that was next to you in that picture had meant… _something_. Maybe at one point.

But now it only made you feel sick from anxiety, just like the door in the hall did.

Too stressed to sit on the soft bed, you simply sat back against the frame on the floor.

You could hear the three skeletons slowly make their way from your door out in the hall, Blue the most prominent of them, and peter out down the stairs.

You hoped they meant well. Most of all, Red. Despite his initial gruffness, you could tell there was something about him that was comforting and familiar.

He was obviously trying so hard to keep his emotions from showing. He didn't want to be a creep and assume you would simply accept him outright.

Or maybe you were reading too much into things.

If you were lucky, maybe Papyrus would come along with that Vanilla skeleton. Though you quickly came to the conclusion that he may need to tend to Sans after all that transpired back at the cabin.

You meant a lot to Papyrus, obviously, but you knew deep down that Sans meant more.

It wasn't upsetting, the reality of it.

You only wished you didn't feel so selfish for wanting him there.

\--

Later into the evening, you found yourself finally laying on your bed. You knew the smell of it, recognized the blue platypus plush sitting on your pillow. 

You _knew_ the room belonged to you.

But you felt so out of place. Unwelcome.

It was similar to the feeling of sleeping at a friend's house for the first time, or a hotel room far away from home. It was comfortable and warm, but you felt out of that plane of reality, like you weren't allowed to get too relaxed.

Like you didn't quite belong.

Onto your side, you rolled to face the two balcony doors in the far wall. The thin cloth blinds over the door panels allowed a faint glimpse to the outside world, but it was blurred like gossamer. One of the skylights above you gave a perfect view of the night sky and the moon so far off in the distance.

You remembered for a moment stargazing with Sa--Axe. 

You still weren't sure what you should call him anymore.

When you remembered yourself, would you call Papyrus Crooks? Sans, Axe? Surely, it wouldn't be too much of a bother to use their real names. But why the nicknames to begin with?

They seemed needlessly cruel.

Crooks was named that because of his appearance? His jagged teeth and hunched posture? He couldn't help that about himself, so why the name?

And Axe? That one was a little easier to explain, given what you'd seen on his bedroom floor, but still.

What Axe had done was wrong. You had to remind yourself of that. Despite his… _kindness_ , and willingness to let you stay with him and his brother, he'd withheld information from you about who you were and where you'd come from.

Vanilla returned not too long ago and attempted to speak with you, though he didn't gain much headway through the closed door. You weren't in the mood for that, and it was obvious by your lack of answers to his questions, as simple as they were.

It was easy for him to accept you weren't quite ready to interact with them all yet.

Sitting in that room, you could easily tell that the space around you was definitely yours. From the photos on the dresser, to the wallet that had an ID card inside it (with your true name, no less), and even the phone that was given back to you from Red, you knew now that you'd come from there.

Speaking of which, your phone sat on the bed beside you, the crack on the screen bothering you. The glass edge bit into your thumb when you moved it, and when you pressed down to remedy it a bit, the screen flashed rainbow from the center.

You hadn't tried it again.

Red seemed upset when he handed the phone over to you, but the ire wasn't aimed in your direction.

You flipped it over for a second and stared at the lock screen, noting the time of night. Mentally and emotionally, you were exhausted, and you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. To snuggle under the covers of your bed and try to acclimate to an old and new environment.

But you couldn't.

You were tired and hungry, and you suddenly remembered that Papyrus was going to be preparing fish that night.

You hoped he still managed to enjoy himself.

The small one, Blue, tried to bring you some food up earlier--a terrifying burrito that seemed to glisten in the fairy lights wrapped around your headboard--and you _politely_ refused.

You were sure some other unfortunate… well, monster, ended up eating it. You weren't actually sure if monsters **could** eat glitter.

Maybe they could. Magic and all that.

But you certainly couldn't. And you didn't want to see the aftereffects of trying, either.

Still, you felt as though you wouldn't have been able to keep it down, if you even made it past the "prod it with a fork for an hour" phase. Really, you think Blue just wanted an excuse to try and come into your room.

You weren't ready to entertain guests. Not with Vanilla and not with him.

Red seemed to be the only one out of them all that brought a bit of comfort with him, as short as it was.

Down below on the first floor, you could hear several loud voices echoing through the walls. You could only place a few when you tried: Edge, Blue, someone who sounded eerily similar to Papyrus, and another that was the same volume as Blue but a little harsher. There were a few others, but you didn't have faces to the voices yet.

You'd meet them all soon enough, you knew.

The room was supposed to be familiar, but at that moment, it felt like a nicely furnished cell.

The others wanted you in there, at least until the morning. Apparently, there was someone coming by, arriving earlier than expected. Someone who was supposed to look at your soul and treat it.

You thought back to Papyrus--Crooks, rather. He'd done all he could to treat the hole that had been in your soul, but the others said a professional needed to look at it.

And you knew that was the truth. Even then, you could feel that familiar, awful tug from where you'd fallen last time, the hole in your soul attempting to appear again. You knew it had everything to do with the events of that past day.

Would healing it fully help you remember?

You certainly hoped it would.

Apparently, you'd known all of the skeleton monsters in the house, if what Red said was true. And the photos on the corkboard in your room were solid proof of the fact. Unless they were forming a very elaborate kidnapping plan.

There were a few pictures that interested you. The ones with that Red fellow mostly. Almost every photo either on your phone or on the board where the two of you were together showed something far more intimate than the others.

It was frightening. 

But also sad.

Had Red been so awkward around you when you'd met because you'd been something more to him? How must he have felt when he realized you didn't recognize him?

Your troubles were tenfold, but you still worried that perhaps you'd been a little short with the rather sharp and pointy monster.

You would try to approach him on it later. For now, the voices downstairs became a jumbled mess, noise coming up through the floor.

With a sigh, you shut your eyes and attempted to sleep, not bothering to get under the covers. Next to your head was the small, fuzzy, blue platypus plush, its beak barely touching the tip of your nose.

Your eyes nearly crossed trying to focus on it, and with a swipe, you took it in hand and held it.

There was a squeaker in its belly.

You gave it a few good squeaks before you simply held it close to your chest. Sleep was all you wanted. All you needed.

Maybe if you just closed your eyes again and pretended you were laid on the couch in Papyrus' living room, you could drift off.

_The smell wasn't right._

There came a rustling of leaves with a particularly strong gust of wind, scraping against your balcony doors as they twirled about. It was an eerie sound, one that put you slightly on edge.

A loud knock sent you shooting from your pillow.

Clutching the platypus tightly, you looked to your bedroom door, your heart beating wildly.

But there was no sound beyond it.

You waited several seconds, sure that you weren't imagining things. That was when another knock came, and you knew for sure it was from your balcony.

The handle of one of the doors jostled, wriggling in place as though something were attempting to open it. Slowly and with uncertainty, you stood from the bed and crept toward them.

Hesitance stopped you from moving further, a shadow, large and imposing, bent low to peer through the veil.

"KITTEN!" A familiar voice called, followed by another knock. "IT'S ME!"

Your heart leapt in your chest, a small smile on your lips as you quickly tossed the platypus to the bed and closed the gap to the balcony.

The tension fell from your shoulders suddenly. Throwing open one of the doors, you were greeted by a familiar skeleton.

Crooks bent low under the door frame to enter the room, remaining on one knee as you came forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

His face snuggled against your throat, his jagged teeth sliding against your skin as you stood there in his tight embrace.

You would almost say it was too tight, but he hardly knew his own strength.

Pushing the door closed behind him without letting go, he simply stood, taking you with him.

Crooks… no, Papyrus could easily stand to full height in your room, your sloped ceiling allowing him ample space. And it wasn't until your feet left the floor and dangled under you that you truly understood how tall he was.

His sweater was soft under your chin, hiding the sharp angles of his ribs and shoulders. You hardly noticed as the two of you simply stood there in one another's hold.

"SANS DOESN'T KNOW I'M HERE." Papyrus told you in what he would call a whisper. "BUT I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO BE SCARED."

You were overjoyed he was there, even if the implications of it all were questionable.

Regardless, you nuzzled into his sweater, your heart feeling that much lighter suddenly. And you knew he felt it, too, if only by the way he held you.

Perhaps falling asleep that night wouldn't be as hard as you thought.

\--

_You were back._

Earlier, he'd heard his brother shout your name through the door, loud enough for him to hear it clearly. Enough that he got the impression you couldn't have been too bad off.

Blue was never one to be inconspicuous.

You hadn't said anything in return, though, and he only caught the sounds of Red and Blue outside the door. That, and the heavy footfalls of Edge.

Even now, Stretch could hardly make out the signature of your soul down the hall, masked by several walls and a thin coating of unfamiliar magic.

It was similar to his own, but different all the same.

From where he sat on his bed, he could tell there was something off with your soul. The feel of it was wrong, and he didn't have to dig deep to know why.

He'd been the idiot that had done it.

You were alive, at least. That was a comfort, right?

Never-mind the low HoPe you were currently sporting or the very odd way your soul seemed to warble.

That comfort was dashed a bit, he would admit.

But Stretch was trapped, imprisoned in his room. What right did he have to want to go out there, up to your room, and see you? How would you even respond to him?

Standing, he walked to the wall that faced your bedroom and simply stared. He placed his forehead against the cold of it and tried, only a little, to shortcut his way out.

Of course it didn't work. The magic the others placed on his room was nearly foolproof. It would take one of them to bring it down, and even then it would last for only a second before the barrier came back up.

What would Stretch say if he got out anyway?

_"hey, I know I tried to kill you, honey, but I'm sorry. take me back."_

Idiot.

Instead of dwelling, he began to pace, listening to the sound your soul made.

You were afraid somewhat. From what exactly, he didn't know.

Him? Coming back home? Or something else?

Stretch sat down again. He was getting restless, and the window to the outside world was taunting him.

Now that you were back, however, he knew the others were going to come down on his head soon. And part of that terrified him.

He honestly didn't know what was going to happen.

You weren't the fallen human from the Underground. You couldn't LOAD, couldn't RESET the timeline. And even if you had been, would you have remembered you could do so after what he did?

Who knew? It didn't matter.

Stretch flipped back onto his bed and stared up at the wood paneling of his ceiling. Any minute now, Blue would be coming by with dinner, and with that?

Maybe Stretch could get some answers.

 

\--

 

Next chapter: Doctor, Doctor

 


	14. Doctor, Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten meets Green and G, and begins to experience her old life again with the main house.
> 
> There are some more pushy than others to get her better, and those with ulterior motives.
> 
> Will Green be able to help?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, guys! I'm really sorry for another long wait between chapters-- but good news!
> 
> Oh, but the best bit of news is that my cancer results came back negative! I'll be three years in remission soon!
> 
> This story was taken down for a minute, so that was a thing, but I should be up and running again!
> 
> This chapter is super long! 17k+ words when I was done with it! I couldn't find a place I liked to stop! So you get all of it! Hopefully it makes up for the ridiculously long hiatus!
> 
> But regardless, thank you for all the lovely kudos and comments! It's what really motivates me to keep going when times get kinda tough! Thank you!

\--

 

Chapter 14: Doctor, Doctor

 

\--

Red was giddy with excitement. If he hadn’t thrown back a few drinks earlier that night, he was sure Grillby would be peeling him off the ceiling right about now. 

But as of that evening, the boisterous skeleton was pleased as punch… pleased as a very _spiked_ punch, as it were _._

The fact that you were back home, safe and sound, asleep in your bed was enough to lift his spirits, if even a little. He knew the next hurdle would be to get your memory back, but it would have to come one step at a time.

Loudly, he kicked his sneakers against the support of his bar stool. The golden metal that wrapped around it made the bottoms of his shoes squeak noisily, something in which Red took great delight.

It had already been decided by him and Vanilla, that come the next day, they would get you to acclimate to the monsters in the house again. Get you warmed up to them. Anything to help get the juices flowing. 

No euphemism intended, Red thought sadly.

 _He missed sharing a bed with you._ _It helped keep the nightmares away most nights._

_And he wasn't deaf._

**_He knew Crooks was in there with you. Probably sleeping in_ ** **_his_ ** **_spot._**

Slamming back another shot of whiskey, he tore into a thick burger sat in front of him. The fries that used to dot the plate were nowhere to be found, mustard stains the only sign that they may have been there at one point. 

The empty yellow bottle off to the side of his plate could attest to the tragedy.

Grillby was nearby, a clean glass in hand as he watched the skeleton ravage the unsuspecting burger he’d so lovingly crafted. It was a bit revolting, if he could be honest, but he couldn’t say much with Red being one of the only patrons in his pub at present.

All of the other skeletons living with Sans had varying degrees of manners and eccentricities, too. Grillby just wished they’d stop getting his counter so filthy. And airing their dirty laundry. And using his pub as a psychologist's office.

If it wasn’t mustard, it was ketchup. And if it wasn’t ketchup, it was barbeque sauce, or honey, or stars forbid, hot sauce. One of them had even asked for maple syrup one night.

_Because Grillby served pancakes at two in the morning, of course._

What a human like yourself had seen in any of them was a mystery. It certainly hadn’t been for their manners. But that wasn't Grillby's business.

Halfway through his burger, the familiar smell of dog hit Red like a freight train, the front door to the pub opening. Two bipedal, white dog monsters walked in: the Dogamy and Dogaressa of this timeline, he knew.

 _Why hadn't he just got them to sniff you out?_ That would have stopped him from running around for nearly a week like a chicken with its head cut off.

Oh, right, because him and the others couldn't afford to have the two _guard_ _dogs_ reporting to the King and Queen that Stretch had potentially killed a human. 

Stretch, a monster that wasn't even supposed to be in this timeline in the first place.

That's why.

Sighing, Red ate his burger with a little less vigor. Not even he was supposed to be there, but there was hardly a thing he could do about it.

How would they have explained it anyway? 

It wouldn't have stopped at Dogamy and Dogaressa. Greater, Lesser, and Doggo would have all joined in. And knowing Red's luck, that Annoying White Dog would have shown up just to add insult to injury.

Mustard smeared across Red's sleeve as he wiped at the corner of his mouth.

It all worked out in the end. Kind of.

Maybe. 

Not really.

Deep down, he still wanted a chance at Axe--to show the walking freak show just how monstrous he could be. If it weren't for Vanilla butting in, he would have had the chance, too. Even with you standing there, he would have taken it.

Stars forbid you think him a _monster_.

Eye for an eye, after all. Head injury for a head injury was more accurate, but not nearly as catchy.

Tomorrow was a new day, though. Well, technically, today was a new day.

It was currently past midnight.

But it _technically_ wasn't tomorrow until he fell asleep, Red decided.

Regardless, Grillby turned away as Red destroyed what was left of his burger, knowing fully well the mess that soon awaited him.

And the growing tab that would follow.

\--

 _Gyftmas was a special time of year for the monsters of the surface, and even those who returned or remained Underground. It was a moment where everyone tried their best to get along, even with their radical differences, and make the season_ **_magical_ ** _._

_The only thing magical happening in the house was Blue being blitzed out of his skull._

_Stood atop the couch, six drinks to the wind, he was closely monitored by another skeleton dressed in orange. You couldn't see their face from where you were seated, but you knew both of them without batting an eye._

_Blue's smile was contagious, though the light tinge of azure to his cheeks spelt out something a little more disastrous. It seemed the taller skeleton dressed in orange was watching him like a hawk._

_Over in the kitchen, there were several loud voices, Edge and Papyrus arguing over the best way to make the traditional Gyftmas Lasagetti. A horrific Frankenstein monster comprised of both spaghetti and lasagna, that ended up resembling neither in the end._

_All you knew was that there would be vinegar, glass, and fire involved at one point. But that's why [ERROR] always made a backup meal just in case._

_Knowing him, quiche was on the menu._

_Standing up from the couch in front of the large living room window, you made your way over to the kitchen arch, peeking inside from just around the corner to watch the goings-on._

_As you suspected, Edge and… Papyrus? No. That was Maple. Not the Papyrus you knew. His teeth were too straight, his eye sockets far too large. And his scarf was a bright red, pristine like the day he'd gotten it._

_You were sure that voice belonged to Papyrus. Perhaps you'd remembered wrong._

_Edge and_ **_Maple_ ** _were at the oven, the two of them arguing over the temperature at which to destroy dinner. All you knew was it involved a lot of hand slapping and Nyeh Heh-ing._

_Edge donned a flattering apron, bits of frill along the ends. It didn't clash with his black and red winter clothes, surprisingly enough. Maple wore oven gloves on both hands, barely holding a pan out of reach of the other skeleton's grasp._

_A disaster was soon to ensue._

_At the kitchen island was a more familiar face, that of Red, who looked to be staring down a tray of messily made cookies._

_The look of consternation on his face was a good tell as to how well the cookie decorating was going._

_Half of the gingerbread monsters were covered in large dollops of red icing, you noticed._

_A gingermonster crime scene._

_Red noticed you tap the frame of the archway, his one lit eyelight snapping up from the array of "bloodied" cookies to land on you._

_Instantly, the anxious look on his skull disappeared._

_His sharp teeth parted to say something, but you couldn't make out the words. You felt a smile creep across your face at whatever it was he'd growled out, his clawed fingers tapping on a chair next to him as though beckoning you to join him._

_It would have looked more alluring if the rings on his phalanges weren't covered in batter and cookie frosting._

_But his grin fell a second later, replaced with something more akin to annoyance and anger, his eyes drawn to something just above your head._

_As you went to walk into the kitchen, you were stopped, a gentle hold on your shoulders from behind pulling you back under the archway._

_It was the skeleton in orange._

_Turned to him now, his face was a blur, as though someone smeared something sickly across a pane of glass and left it to dry. He felt familiar, but his features were nowhere to be found._

_The dread that crept along with it sent your stomach rolling._

_You smiled, regardless, at the skeleton, noting the way Blue was now hunkered down on the back of the couch, his wide star eyes half-lidded and tired._

_A small, breathy laugh escaped you, the orange-clad skeleton's arms resting on your shoulders as he nodded his blur of a head up toward the ceiling._

_You followed his line of sight, noticing immediately a little bundle of leaves and berries._

_Of course it was a mistletoe._

_Nature's beautifully parasitic holiday decoration._

_The laugh that left your throat was a little more strained._

_From in the kitchen, you knew Red was watching closely as Orange leant down and placed a kiss first against your cheek, his teeth smooth and warm._

_You didn't miss the low growl as Orange moved to your lips, almost possessively holding your chin in place._

_"DISGUSTING!" Edge bellowed, breaking the kiss with a thunderous slam of a ladle on the kitchen counter. "YOUR PUBLIC DISPLAY OF FRATERNIZATION IS UNC--"_

_Edge was suddenly silenced by a towel in his mouth, Maple smiling oddly as though he wasn't the one who'd put it there. "CARRY ON, Y/N! DINNER WILL BE DONE SOON!"_

_Over at the island, Red appeared to be decorating his cookies a little more… violently, his fangs gnashed and grip on his icing bag just a little too tight._

_You looked back at Orange in front of you, hoping to discern something more familiar about him, aside from a sudden feeling of nausea churning in your stomach._

_And in a blink, the world around you shifted, the room cold and dark. Tall, black trees surrounded you, the sound of leaves crunching under your shoes echoing loudly through the forest._

_Orange's face was still a mess of colors, now illuminated by a harsh glow from his right eye socket. The gentle hold on your shoulders was now a rough, vice-like grip around your arms, his phalanges biting into your skin through the fabric of your coat._

_You struggled to break free from his hold, but to no avail. Even as there was a tug from the center of your chest, you knew what you felt then and there was more than a dream._

_There was a flash, a surge of pain running through you as your world shifted again, swaying like a carousel knocked off its axis. The ground under your back was cold and wet, your limbs heavy as a small, delicate heart wafted just overhead._

_There was a large hole in the center of it._

_The breath in your lungs was labored as you watched the heart drift down miserably, like an autumn leaf having finally died and fallen from the tree._

_It landed on your chest, but the feeling brought no comfort, and neither did the sway of the trees far above you, nor the wind that gently rustled the leaves on the ground._

_There was a faint crunching sound, someone coming near, slowly though without hesitation._

_It was Orange._

_The glow from his eye was now gone, leaving his sockets two empty voids on his smeared face. Something escaped him, a string of words you could no longer make out._

_But there was vitriol behind them._

_Malice and hate._

_You didn't understand._

_And without another look, he turned and left._

_Left you alone in the unknown woods to serve your sentence._

_It was only then you noticed how dark it had gotten._

_Darker, yet darker, the field of your vision slowly turning black around the edges._

_The chill that seeped through your clothes grew warm, but not comforting, your limbs too heavy to push the little heart sitting despondently on your chest back into your body._

_You didn't even know you could, if you were able._

_Instead, the world slowly turned black, until finally you could see nothing._

_Until you felt nothing._

_Until the only thing you could do was shut your eyes and hope there was an ever after._

_\--_

_Where were you?_

_It was dark. Too dark. The shadows far longer than you could imagine, the world nearly in grayscale. There was small puffs of warm air in front of you, your breath escaping in labored coughs._

_You saw your fingers clawing out in front of you as your body slowly followed behind, the edges of leaves and bends of sticks biting into your palms._

**_Where were you?_**

_There came a sudden drop, a slope you hadn't seen, but you hardly felt it as you tumbled down. Landing hard, you barely had a moment to catch your breath as you were suddenly pulled upwards into the trees._

\--

You woke with a jolt, the feeling of being slammed back into your own body making you shake unexpectedly under your heavy sheets.

Honestly, you hadn't remembered when you fell asleep. You did remember, however, upon waking up, that you hadn't fallen asleep alone.

There, snuggled close under the covers of your bed was Papyrus--or Crooks, as you were expected to call him--who was still sound asleep. He laid curled under your quilt, his long legs tucked to fit into your bed. 

But you didn't mind.

His hold was loose in his sleep, his arms coiled around your shoulders, holding your back against his chest to the point where you began to feel his ribs through your shirt.

The sweater he wore was soft and warm against your neck, your head tucked under his chin as the top of his skull barely brushed the headboard of your bed.

Your blue platypus plush was lodged between his teeth, the fabric still intact even though it looked as though Papyrus gnawed on it in his sleep.

His pinhole eye sockets were closed, his cheekbones an almost imperceptible shade of orange. And even though he slept,you could feel his fingers twitch every so often against your collar.

The light from your balcony doors filtered into your room, shining into your eyes and illuminating everything in a bright yellow-orange. The faint sound of birds could be heard outside in the trees, the same ones that resembled your dream from only a few minutes ago.

You sucked in a deep breath and rubbed at the center of your chest. Again, the small ache that appeared there not too long ago was rearing its ugly head.

There wasn't much you could do about it. And neither could Papyrus, apparently.

Speaking of which, you'd spent the evening in your room, Papyrus trying his best to be quiet so as not to tip off the other skeletons downstairs that he was spending the night over.

How well that actually worked, you didn't know.

Up on your bed, he talked to you, about what had happened after you left. It was cute to see him with his long legs tucked under the seat of his pants, the two of you lit up by the strand of fairy lights you wrapped around your headboard some time ago.

He promised he'd tended to his chickens and made sure his chores were done before he ventured off to see you. And with a hand to his chest, he also made a promise to keep your things safe should you come to visit them.

Papyrus spoke as though that morning never happened, or that he was simply ignoring it in favor of keeping you calm. He continued on, reminiscing about what he'd made for supper, and that Sans and him had eaten _without you_ \--something he didn't looked pleased about.

Sans had been… _in a mood_ , apparently.

Papyrus explained after Vanilla sent you away with Edge and Red, he'd stayed behind to interrogate Sans more intensely. Papyrus was only a part of the conversation at points, but there was a very obvious tension between the other two.

Sans had to be restrained to his chair halfway into the talk--the laughter got to be a bit much, as did the constant mocking of Vanilla and the others in the main house. It felt as though the rush of having fought with Red hadn't left him quite yet.

There was an obvious bloodlust to it all. As if at any moment, he would break free from his binds and go off on Vanilla as well.

Papyrus didn't much care for seeing his brother locked in place with magic, but his own worry overrode that feeling. That, and he wanted to hear for himself why his own brother withheld information from both you and him.

What did he hope to gain?

Vanilla begged the questions: where you'd been found, how long ago, what condition your soul was in. What had been done to help you? Why you hadn't been mentioned to the main house before Red and Edge took it upon themselves to confront Axe?

Vanilla was rather proud of Papyrus, however, for doing so well to take care of your soul after he'd found you, and a human soul no less. He did, however, mention he was still disappointed no one said a thing to them. 

A random human appearing in the forest around their home could have posed a serious security risk. Your being there originally, years ago, had been stressful enough.

Sans hadn't been cooperative, full of smirks and short chortles. He only managed to say that he did what he did "because why not? you don't have a claim to her." before going silent. The grin on his face was unsettling then.

Papyrus and Vanilla both knew there was more to it than that. It wasn't hard to tell he'd been lying.

And Sans only laughed when Vanilla told him he was on house arrest, answering back with "and where would I go, anyway?" before shutting himself off in his bedroom until dinner.

You weren't sure how they were going to deal with his deceit. 

For now, all you knew was that Papyrus was asleep behind you, you were very much trapped in a bear hug, and the morning sun was shining into your eyes.

Slowly, you began to pull his arm from around your shoulders, careful not to move too quickly as to not wake him. He merely stayed asleep, broken teeth slightly parted as his fingers tried to find purchase on anything soft.

You shimmied out of his hold and scooted your way to the end of the bed, Papyrus' arm snaking across the sheets to try and find you again.

One of your pillows had to be sacrificed.

The pillow was dragged back against his chest, his bony knees coming up to curl in on himself before a quiet "nyeh" escaped him.

Taking your chance, you snuck to the bathroom and took care of business, refreshing yourself for the morning. If you were going to be meeting the others of the house, you ought to make a good impression… again.

Sidling back into your room, you saw Papyrus sat up on the bed, your pillow in his lap as he adjusted the collar of his sweater. He seemed confused by his surroundings, looking far too large for your bed, and far, far too large for the pillow to which he was now clinging.

He visibly relaxed when he spotted you, placing the pillow down on the bed as he all but jumped from it and stood to his full height.

Only to get tangled in your quilt and fall to his knees.

You were quick to skip over and check him, only just making it as he got himself free, staying where he was as you looked him dead in the eye.

"I SLEPT IN! LYDIAN IS GOING TO BE FURIOUS ABOUT HER LATE BREAKFAST!" Papyrus waxed, "BUT I'M GLAD YOU'RE AWAKE FOR ME TO SAY GOODBYE."

Coming closer, you made sure to hug him tightly around his neck, his current height perfect for wrapping his long arms around your ribs.

Papyrus's sharp teeth scratched lightly at your cheek, a welcome warmth compared to the aggressive kiss you received in your dream. And in kind you gave him a gentle peck at his nose even as he stood with you to walk to the balcony door.

When he set you down, you opened the door for him, the cool, morning wind sending a shiver up your legs and back. And despite the cold, the chill felt good in the rising sun.

With a hand rustling against the top of your head, Papyrus ducked under the frame of your door and headed out onto the balcony. "I'LL TRY TO VISIT YOU AGAIN SOON. BUT I CAN'T LET SANS GET SUSPICIOUS. HE THINKS MY PILLOWS ARE ME UNDER THE COVERS."

You very much doubted that.

Sans was probably already _very much aware_ of his brother's disappearance.

"PLEASE DON'T BE AFRAID TO VISIT US--OR, or just me." There was a pause, his jaw tight. 

Papyrus knew Sans had to stay far away from you from now on. It showed on his face despite him trying to hide his discomfort.

"EVEN IF ONE OF THE OTHERS HAS TO COME WITH YOU." Someone like Red, he meant.

Because that wouldn't spell disaster with Red and Sans within pissing distance of one another.

"UNTIL THEN, KITTEN!"

Swinging over the railing, Papyrus leapt from the balcony without a care in the world.

Worried, you peeked over the edge, only to see him down in the grass below, no worse for wear, waving to you one last time before he began his trek back home.

With his long legs, the beeline to the trees was met in record speed, his tattered red scarf the last bit you saw before he fully disappeared.

You hoped he gave Lydian a hug for you.

\--

The hallway was quiet as you stuck your head out. Already, you missed your large skeleton… _bonefriend_ being there, a familiar warmth around you, and the comfort of your bed. But you knew you would have to meet your old housemates eventually. 

It was only right that they got to see you.

You weren't the only one who may have had an issue with your disappearance. 

Steeling your nerves, you took the first step out into the hall and peered down to where the stairs were. It was illuminated with bright morning light, the living room below open to the sun.

You spotted at the other end of the hall, past the walkway that hung over the kitchen entrance, another set of stairs leading to the third floor, but you had no idea what could have been up there.

You didn't want to push your luck just yet.

There were two doors to your right, the wood painted black, one dotted and marred with scratches, stickers, and a large white board that read "FUCK OFF" on it.

_Lovely._

There was a rough cut out in the door just near the base, the name "LARRY" pasted sloppily with metallic stickers just over the top of it.

A… pet door? Or a door made _by_ a pet? It looked as though a small animal rocketed through the wood, and from then on the hole was declared a door itself.

Regardless, the other black door in the hall was simpler, nearly in pristine condition.

With the exception of another small cat door just at the very foot of it, reinforced with a metal kick plate.

The word "DOOM" was stencilled in neatly above the cat door in red, a bit of fur stuck on the gasket surrounding it.

To your left were two other doors, one a light blue and covered in gold star stickers, a large diamond-shaped star hanging at the center toward the top. You assumed that one probably belonged to Blue, and the two others Red and Edge.

The only other door in the hall besides your own was open. You couldn't make out the colour of it, but you knew for certain it was the same door that gave you the odd feeling in your chest the previous day.

As you crept closer, you could hear the voice of Blue from inside. He must have been talking with someone, though it sounded more like a one-sided conversation than anything. The other half may have just been unreasonably quiet.

"--that Y/N is home, things can go back to how they were." Blue spoke a little more softly, not his usual brand of volume. "It can work, Papy."

You stayed out of sight, your heart suddenly hammering in your ears. That anxious swell was building in your chest the closer you grew to the door, trying your best to listen in.

Just as the floor creaked under your weight, there was a shout.

"DON'T SAY THAT!" Blue yelled suddenly, and you were quick to stay put. Against the wall, you stood flat, steadied by your hands coiling around the dado rail that ran the length of the hall. "Green won't let anything happen! And I'm not gonna let Vanil--"

The door across the hall burst open, revealing Edge dressed in his bedclothes. They were silk to be sure, a deep red to match the now burning lights in his sockets.

At his feet sat a large cat you could only describe as looking somewhat like a Maine Coon mixed with a Tibetan Mastiff. It had a severe underbite that made you immediately question whether or not it scooped its food into its mouth like a pelican or ate like a normal cat.

You were shocked that it managed to fit through the rather small cat door, but that was besides the point.

One eye appeared to be blinded, a jagged scar running down the slope of its face from ear to chin. A collar sat around its neck, a metal tag that resembled a skull dangling from the leather band.

If "Doom" was its name, it was rather fitting.

"WHY MUST YOU BE SO LOUD?" Edge asked Blue rather loudly. So loud, in fact, he shook the walls of the hallway by his sheer volume.

The hypocrisy of it all was laughable.

Edge's eyelights landed on you not far from the door, the cat letting out a deep timbre of a meow in confirmation that there was someone else listening.

Blue appeared from the room, his hands balled up at his sides, and glared Edge down--only to glance to his side and see you.

The mood shift was almost instantaneous.

"Y/N! YOU'RE AWAKE!" He greeted in almost a scream, his star eyes darting back into the room from which he came. He looked to think for a moment, mouth hanging open as he surveyed something in the room, "YOU SHOULD COME SEE--"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT." Edge stomped forward, grabbed hold of the door handle, and slammed it shut behind Blue. The smaller skeleton tripped into the hall, missing a few feisty swipes by the large cat that batted at his legs.

Blue skipped back away from the cat and let out a huff, "DOOMFANGER, NO, BAD." He whisked his hands in the direction of the cat and proceeded to make the noise "PSST, PSST, PSST" through his teeth.

Which appeared to do nothing.

The cat settled at Edge's slippered feet, its tail swishing this way and that as it mimicked its master's poise.

Edge stared Blue down as you stood, caught in the middle, unable to escape in either direction.

"IF Y/N IS TO SEE ANYONE, IT SHALL BE GREEN. AND G, IF SHE MUST" The last part of that sentence was spat out, Doomfanger giving a low growl in agreement.

There was a low hum from the back of Blue's throat, one that screamed of irritation. The stars in his eyes fizzled out to simple circles, a small wrinkle in the bone of his nose.

You really didn't want to be stuck between the two of them.

"SHE SHOULD MEET EVERYONE ELSE, TOO." Blue's eyes went back to the door he'd been unceremoniously pushed out of, " _EVERYONE._ "

"INCORRECT! SHE SHOULD--"

Slowly making your way down the wall, neither Blue nor Edge noticed as you slid further and further from their duel of volume.

Edge was dead set on keeping you as far from the others as possible, it seemed, especially from whatever or whoever Blue wanted you to see in that room.

Blue, on the other hand, wanted you to meet everyone again. Right. Now. No hesitation. Quick as lightning.

So much for taking things at your own pace.

Sneaking to the stairs, the two bickering skeletons grew quieter as you made your way down the steps and into the living room.

Coming down, the smell of breakfast was in the air: the doughy smell of biscuits and perhaps bacon. And coffee. Very _strong_ coffee.

On the couch was… Mutt? You believed his name was Mutt. The very same skeleton who'd been there the night before, pretending he was asleep while he watched you.

He was less inconspicuous about it now.

Blatant, even.

He looked exhausted, though you supposed sleeping on a couch might not have been too comfortable long-term. 

His overly long coat was wrinkled from having slept in it, his shoes supposedly never having left his feet the whole night if the mud on the sofa was anything to go by.

"HUMAN!" A shrill voice rang out from behind you, from just inside the kitchen.

Shocked, you spun on your heel and turned to… look down a bit.

There stood a smaller skeleton, just about Blue's height, his eyes bright with red stars. The scars over his left eye crinkled with a wide grin, his sockets curved mischievously as he fixed the scarlet bandana around his neck.

"DO YOU KNOW JUST HOW WORRIED I'VE BEEN, Y/N?" He began, slowly starting to circle around you. You felt very much like a mouse being watched by a hawk overhead. "SHAME ON YOU."

Despite the height difference between the two of you, there was a charge around him you couldn't ignore.

For someone so diminutive, he certainly had an air of authority about him.

The small skeleton's heels clicked on the wood flooring, and he came to a stop in front of you, pleased with making several rounds about your person. "TO THINK, YOU'VE BEEN HIDING AWAY WITH THE CROOKED BROTHERS THIS WHOLE TIME! TO WORRY US LIKE THAT!"

He stepped into your space, staring up at you with little more than a few inches between your faces.

Something didn't feel quite right.

"BUT NOW THAT YOU'RE HERE, YOU CAN FINALLY RETURN HOME WITH US!" The small one's smile grew wider, his sharp teeth glinting dangerously in the sunlight. "BACK TO HOW THINGS USED TO BE."

"right, m'lord." You jumped forward by a voice at your neck, shocked to find it was Mutt who now stood behind you in the kitchen.

_You know you'd seen him on the couch just a moment ago._

You nearly knocked into "M'lord", but managed to stop yourself short, stepping off to the side to get out from between the two of them.

You'd had enough being sandwiched that morning, already.

"after green takes a look at you." Mutt finished, his tired eyes blinking slowly. "right?"

Had he actually slept at all?

The comment from the taller skeleton wiped the smile straight from "M'lord's" face, his skull going slack with sudden annoyance. "OF COURSE." He almost growled out, his teeth not parting an inch, "AFTER GREEN LOOKS AT YOU."

With your arms crossed, you stared the two of them down defensively, your own eyes narrowed with suspicion. You knew simply by the look on the smaller one's face that he was up to something.

That returning smile of his was just a bit too wide.

And the way Mutt stared was just a bit too hard.

_Also, you weren't a moron._

Taking several steps back, you gave the two of them a cross look, "M'lord's" smile twitching at the edges somewhat.

It wasn't until you heard a door in the kitchen open that you broke eye contact with the small skeleton.

Through a door that led out onto the deck, Red walked inside, kicking it shut behind him as he carried a covered plate toward the stove. His face was flat, his lit eye trained forward until he noticed he had three guests standing outside the kitchen.

At first, the corner of his mouth curled down at the sight of Mutt and the smaller monster, but when they landed on you his look softened considerably.

"you two get away from her." He growled out, all but throwing the plate onto the counter. Surprisingly, it remained covered as it safely slipped over the granite of the countertop. "no funny business, y'hear?"

"HA!" "M'lord" exclaimed, taking it upon himself to break away from you and Mutt. Sauntering his way over to Red, he stood, arms akimbo, legs wide as though to intimidate.

Red wasn't impressed.

"WE WERE MERELY TELLING Y/N THAT NOW THAT SHE IS…" he stared back at you over his shoulder, gauging your appearance, " _BETTER_ , SHE'LL BE RETURNING HOME WITH US." A single finger extended out, prodding Red in his sweater, "YOU ALL SEEM TOO INCOMPETENT TO KEEP HER SAFE."

Red simply slapped away the smaller monster's hand and moved to open the oven, "in your dreams. she ain't goin' anywhere any time soon." He thought for a moment, his eye coming to rest on you as you looked at him incredulously, "unless she wants to."

The oven hissed as he opened it, his bony fingers grabbing hold of a baking pan without batting an eye at the heat.

Were all monsters immune to temperature, or was it just skeletons? 

You'd seen Papyrus wear sweaters since you'd known him, yet Sans seemed perfectly content in just a simple zip-up. But there were furred monsters as well, like that wolf at the market. You honestly didn't know heads from tails when it came to monsters.

Golden yellow biscuits made their way to the range top, Red letting the heat of the oven radiate into the kitchen. It looked as though there were a few beads of sweat on his skull.

Maybe the heat did bother him?

"don't go lyin' that she lived with you two. ain't got time for that shit, black." Red pushed "M'lord", or who you assumed was named Black, out of his way. He kneeled down and retrieved a frying pan from a cabinet, slamming it on the range next to the covered plate.

Mutt made a noise of indignation, slowly making his way into the kitchen as though to shadow Red. You were half tempted to step on the overly-long tails of his coat, but thought better of it, especially when the fur trim of one of his ridiculously long sleeves brushed against your arms.

That felt electrifying, for some reason.

Smarter than to get in-between two skeletons fighting, you simply came into the kitchen slowly. Sans and Red made the point quite clear the previous day that involving yourself in magic-based fights may not be the smartest idea.

Ripping open the fridge, Red grabbed a carton of eggs and pushed past Mutt, who was more than content with walking right on the smaller monster's heels. It was as though pushing Black out of the way triggered something in him.

Two sets of loud footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, a heavy thump signaling to you that someone may have jumped the last few steps down.

Blue rushed into the kitchen, sending Black into a spiral as he attempted to move out of the way--successfully garnering Mutt's attention off Red for a moment.

Edge came next, ducking the top of his skull under the arch to walk inside. He, too, made it a point to move Black out of the way.

Deep down, you began to feel somewhat bad for the little skeleton. Everyone looked to be pushing him aside. Perhaps you'd mistaken a defense mechanism for attitude. You thought for a moment that maybe you had him all wrong.

_Until he all but lobbed a bone at the back of Edge's head._

Tried to, at least. The bone sped past Edge and nailed Mutt square between the sockets with a resounding, hollow thud.

Mutt stopped shadowing Red and Blue, long fingers coming up to cover the bone of his brow as Black raced up to him quickly.

That diffused whatever was going on between them, and you were all the more grateful for it.

Coming up to the stove, you stood about a foot away from Red, who simply stated down at the pan warming up on the burner. His one eye light rounded his socket and landed on you, questioning.

Perhaps he'd let you help make breakfast like Papyrus.

"hey, ki--" his teeth clicked shut, the eggs in his hands creaking as he squeezed them, "y/n. mornin'. you ain't gotta help. s'alright."

Your face fell a bit as he refused to look at you further, his chin dipped down into the collar of his sweater.

Hesitantly, you let Blue lead you over to the table and sit you down. From there, you watched Red break a number of eggs into his pan, throwing the shells back into the carton with reckless abandon. 

The whole lot of them was thrown in the pan, Blue using the moment Red turned to grab his spatula to try and take one of the fresh biscuits.

It failed, and Blue received a thwack on the head with said spatula for his trying.

Now there were two skeletons with head injuries.

"honey boy ain't here to help ya, so don't go whining." Red warned, his sharp teeth set in a snarl. Blue tiptoed away from the biscuits, his gloved hand rubbing at the now very sore spot on his skull.

Mutt was kneeling on the floor in front of Black, the smaller of the two inspecting the mark now on his skull.

Blue parked himself toward the end of the table, two seats down from you. He left a gap between the two of you--you noted silently that there was a missing placemat in the empty spot.

It must have fallen or gotten dirty. Judging by their kitchen etiquette, it wasn't a stretch to say meal time would get messy. 

Edge made himself at home across from you, barely fitting into the chair, robe and all. He very much looked like a made-up diva if it weren't for the arrival of Doomfanger on his lap. That, and the quite dainty tea cup he was sporting.

Now he just looked like a Bond villain.

Did any Bond villains guffaw? There had to be one, surely.

A pop sounded from the stove, the eggs growing furious with the way Red was cooking them. He simply gave a low growl and shook the pan about, the fur trim of his hood bouncing back and forth with the motion of his shoulder.

"DID YOU SLEEP WELL?" Blue asked when no one else began conversation.

You glanced over at him, his elbows up on the tabletop. He stared at you intently, his eye lights back to bright, blue stars. "YOU REMEMBER YOUR PLATYPUS, RIGHT? THE ONE I GOT YOU?" This made him lurch forward a bit in his seat, his palms slapping on the center of the table. "HE HELPED YOU SLEEP, RIGHT?"

Well. Maybe not _you_ . But it helped _someone_ sleep.

This made Edge glance up from his phone, red eyes trained and narrowed on Blue. A snort escaped from his nose, a slight twitch seen in his sharpened scowl.

Letting your shoulders fall, you nodded despite the lie. If anything, the only reason you slept remotely soundly last night was because of Papyrus' visit--dream notwithstanding.

Laying his chin on his forearms, Blue grinned, and you could hear his bare feet clacking against the legs of the chair. "THAT'S GOOD." There was a pause, his star eyes flitting to Edge, Red, and then back to you, "AFTER YOU SEE EVERYONE AGAIN, DID YOU WANT TO GO INTO TOWN WITH ME? WE CAN GO BY GRILL--MUFFET'S!"

Grill Muffets? You weren't sure what he meant by that. 

Perhaps it was a restaurant.

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you weren't sure how to respond. Thankfully, you didn't have to say a word as Red came over from the stove and placed a plate in front of you.

You stared back at him, a small smile gracing your lips as he stood there in what you would describe as sheepish hesitance. The harsh scowl that was there before was now gone, replaced with a bit of a grimace.

His eye light was downcast to the floor, a hand held to the back of his neck. You heard the rings on his fingers click against his vertebrae as he rubbed. "made 'em how you like." Was all he said, his voice low and quiet.

The plate in front of you was eggs, a biscuit, and sausage you assumed he'd made on a grill outside. For someone so brash in appearance, he really did know how to cook. And make cookies, according to your dream.

Across the table, Edge made no noise, but watched from behind the screen of his phone. Doomfanger… well, Doomfanger looked to be staring at two places at once, so it was hard to tell what they were looking at to begin with.

"and nah, blue. kitten--" Red stopped himself short, his eye dilating a bit, "y/n has to be here when green and g arrive." After that, he deflated, his small smile completely gone, "jus' let her be."

Red shuffled back over to the stove, picking up his spatula without another word.

A loud clang sounded next to you, only for you to find that Black had seated himself comfortably at the table at your side. Mutt was across from him, too close to Edge--he and Doomfanger scooted over by nearly a foot to get away.

Mutt poked at a single biscuit he had in front of him, looking not at all hungry. There was a dull spot on his skull where the bone made an impact, though he looked to be ignoring whatever pain he might have been in.

Noting the tension at the table, you tried the food Red placed in front of you, only to find the eggs and everything else were just right.

Apparently, he hadn't been lying.

Black ate messily, tearing at his biscuits and sausage as though someone was going to come up and steal it from him if he didn't eat it fast enough. His sharp teeth ripped at it easily, and you were simply engrossed with the idea that the food didn't go anywhere after that.

It just kind of vanished.

It had been the same way with Papyrus and Sans when you were with them. But neither of them explained it further than it just being simple magic. Maybe that's all it was really.

Despite how good your own food was, you missed the warmth Papyrus, and even Sans to a degree, had back at their cabin. It was small and quaint, but you knew Papyrus put his heart and soul into everything he made.

Not that Red didn't, of course. It was just hard to adjust back to what you knew should have been normal and commonplace for you. Those at the table obviously knew, spent time, and worried about you dearly.

Black was still debatable, however.

It saddened you to a degree knowing you may have been disappointing them in not remembering. It wasn't affecting just you in the end. Red's attitude was testament enough to that.

Just as you were finishing up, the front door opened and closed loudly, heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen. Poking his head inside, the smile that came to your face fell a bit when you realized Maple was grinning at you and not Papyrus.

They were so similar.

"Y/N! GLAD TO SEE YOU AWAKE!" Maple came fully into the kitchen, standing between Mutt and Edge at the table, "BLUE AND I HAVE A PLAN ALL SET OUT FOR YOU."

Blue stood from his seat, coming up behind you to grab your shoulders, "YEAH, IT'S WHY I WANTED YOU TO GO INTO TOWN WITH ME. MAPLE AND I WERE GOING TO SHOW YOU AROUND TO HELP YOU REMEMBER!"

From the stove, you could hear Red growl under his breath, repeating what he'd said earlier to Blue. Except he could hardly be heard over Maple and Blue's excitement.

"WE'LL GO TO MUFFETS! AND THEN GRILLBY'S." Maple leaned on the table heavily, "WE HAVEN'T TOLD HIM YOU WERE BACK. HE'S BEEN ON THE LOOKOUT FOR YOU, AS WELL."

Blue chimed in behind you. "AND THEN WE WERE GOING TO MEET YOUR OLD ROOMMATES. DO YOU REMEMBER CATTY AND BRATTY?"

The volume was beginning to be too much for you, their excitement and close proximity making your heart hammer in your chest.

"OH, AND DON'T FORGET BURGERPA--" Maple pulled back from the table when he noticed the obvious hesitance on your face. "HE CAN WAIT. BUT SEEING THE OTHERS WILL CERTAINLY HELP."

"tomorrow, bro. wait until tomorrow." Vanilla came slowly into the kitchen, his pink house slippers scraping on the tile of the floor. "red's right. green and g are gonna be here soon. tomorrow you can play around."

Vanilla took a seat at the head of the table, his sockets dark like he hadn't slept. He looked tired yesterday, too, when he'd intervened between Sans and Red, and even more so today.

Maple took note of this, and was quick to bring his brother a cup of very, very, very dark coffee.

Vanilla drank his coffee with closed sockets, his shoulders shuddering at the heat and immediate caffeine hit. "you sleep alright, y/n?" He asked plainly, one socket opening to look at you. One white eye light stared at you from his right socket, his smile strained.

When you nodded, he placed his coffee down and looked to Edge, "if you can make sure to keep an eye on things today--what we talked about last night."

Edge glanced up from his phone, one hand petting at Doom in his lap, and simply nodded at Vanilla. Two red eyes darted to you for a split second before going back to the phone, the large skeleton not so subtly hinting Vanilla had been talking about you.

"WELL, IF YOU CAN'T GO INTO TOWN TODAY, THEN…" Blue bounced on the toes on his feet excitedly, "I CAN SHOW YOU MY ROOM!"

"AND MINE, TOO!" Maple added, "AND THEN THE FLOWER GARDEN. YOU USED TO LOVE IT THERE."

Despite the boisterous suggestions by the two monsters, you couldn't help but hear Red sigh on the opposite end of the kitchen.

You glanced off to the side even as Black suggested you see his room as well, Edge gently telling him no with a polite "ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

You tried to look at Red, only to be blocked by Blue's face as he stepped right in the way, "C'MON. HURRY UP AND FINISH, SO I CAN SHOW YOU!"

\--

Blue was quick to drag you upstairs, only slightly hesitating when you got by the mysterious door again before he finished the walk up to his own. Throwing it open, he motioned for you to enter with an exaggerated nod of his head.

"THIS IS MY ROOM." he stated the obvious, if only by the blue color scheme. Well, blue, stars, and space. Constellations, star charts, and speckles of paint gave his room a unique feeling. It was apparent his love for all things space, right down to his bed, the headboard of which looked similar to the nose of a rocket.

The ceiling was littered with glow-in-the-dark stars, which stood in contrast to the nebula painted lovingly on its surface.

Blue left the door open as he trotted inside, making a beeline toward the window at the back to stand next to something covered in a thick blanket. He whisked the curtains away from his window (the fabric also covered in golden stars and moons) and let the light of the day filter in.

"YOU USED TO BUNK IN HERE SOMETIMES WHEN YOU WOULD STAY OVER. BACK BEFORE YOU LIVED WITH US." He shifted from one foot to another sheepishly, "My _brother_ didn't like you staying with me at first."

You wondered just where Blue's brother was, then. Was he one of the skeletons you'd seen already? Maybe he'd moved out to go to The City? A lot of monsters carried on past Ebott after they'd gotten comfortable on the surface. Blue's brother very well could have done the same.

"He... got better about it." His eye lights shifted to the wall to your right, to the mysterious room. 

Blue sensed there was a tension in the air from having brought up his brother, and was quick to change the subject, "BUT ANYWAY. YOU WOULD STAY HERE WHEN YOUR ROOMMATES WANTED SOME ALONE TIME. OR WHEN YOU… _WERE HAVING A BAD DAY_."

Another bout of silence filled the air, not helped at all on your part, and Blue tugged at the fringe of his bandana. It was beginning to fray a bit around the edges.

The stars in his eyes darted for something to talk about, and soon he found just what he wanted. His face lit up, a smile returning across his skull as he motioned to the blanket-covered object near the window.

"DO YOU REMEMBER GIVING ME THIS?" He pulled back the cover to reveal a telescope that looked a little bit worse for wear, as though it was far older than yourself. "IT WAS RIGHT AFTER WE MET."

Something in the back of your mind sparked as you came closer to Blue and the telescope, your brow furrowed as you felt the inkling of something coming to the surface. 

It bubbled up bit by bit.

_An old bedroom--yours--and the sounds of two girls just outside. The telescope had been next to your window, the cap lodged in place from time and disuse. Your room was relatively sparse, but it was home. Enough space to work on… whatever it was you were working on._

_There were supplies scattered on the dresser and floor, bits of equipment on your bed. Had you been self-employed? Or was it a pet project?_

_Blue was there, blurry around the edges, but the familiar bandana and smile assured you it was him. Someone else was there, too, a dark orange and umber-clad person who was too unfamiliar to remember their face, you thought._

_You'd given Blue the telescope. You'd had it since you were younger, the item given to you as a gift, as well._

_He'd been ecstatic, saying he'd left his behind when "they'd moved"._

_He'd hugged you then, too tightly, and thanked you for the gift._

_Another voice followed soon after, garbled with static._

_"that was nice of you, honey."_

Breaking from your reverie, you placed a hand on the uncapped telescope and stared down at Blue. His face was unreadable as he stared back up at you, his shoulders tight as he noticed the way you'd spaced out for a moment.

"YOU OKAY?" Blue took a step forward to look at you closer, "DO YOU REMEMBER?"

With a nod, you felt a small smile creep across your face at having remembered something so small, but so significant to the monster. 

The stars in his eyes were huge from your revelation, his smile wide at the thought you'd remembered him in some way. "YOU REMEMBER GIVING IT TO ME? GREAT!"

He darted from the window over to his dresser and pointed at an assortment of action figures strategically be positioned on top of it, "WHAT ABOUT THIS?"

You two hardly noticed a set of red eyes watching from the hall.

\--

The next thirty minutes or so, Blue ran across his room. From top to bottom, left to right, he challenged you on minute things that may have sparked a memory, but nothing struck a chord quite like the telescope.

You knew he was trying his best with what he had, and worried he was getting discouraged. But he was quick to replace his frown with even a small smile, if only to hide his disappointment.

Maple popped his head in a few times to check on things, and reminded you that his room was to be next when the sound of a doorbell rang through the house. Just outside the room, the speaker in the wall chimed again, followed by a few sporadic chimes as though someone was pushing the button multiple times.

Maple dipped away from the door and flew down the hall, Blue quick to run out behind him, "C'MON, Y/N! THAT'S GOTTA BE GREEN AND G!"

You stood in the middle of Blue's room for a moment before your legs finally decided to move. The doorbell went off a few more times while you slowly made your way to the door, your heart suddenly pounding nervously.

Coming to the door, you peered down the hall toward the staircase, noting the way Edge stood at the bannister overlooking the living room.

Slowly, you came up next to him and spied out from behind the corner of the wall. Edge glanced at you for a second, his arms crossed tightly over his thick sweater, but he said nothing.

The front door opened wide, two monsters standing outside on the stonework porch. One was unbelievably tall, his long, black overcoat only adding to his slim height. The other was lanky, but slouched a bit under the fur collar of his cropped coat.

The two of them entered the foyer, the taller of which removing his wide-brimmed hat and scarf to place on a coat hanger near the door. They both carried overnight bags, obviously planning to stay a while.

Neither of them had seen you up on the second floor walkway, their attention paid to Vanilla who walked out from the kitchen.

Red shut the front door behind them, the light coming through the glass in its center illuminating the crown of his skull. You would say he looked relieved at seeing the two new monsters entering his home, but he barely moved away from the door.

"nice of you two to come on such short notice." Vanilla announced out of sight, hidden from your gaze under the kitchen arch. "we've been keeping an eye on y/n since last night. I don't think there's been much of a change, but I wanna get her looked at as soon as you two get settled."

The one with the cropped jacket glanced around the living room, throwing his bag onto the leather couch in front of the window that still sat boarded up, "you guys have a party without me?" He joked, nodding at the board hastily screwed into the wall. "who did that number? stretch?"

"hardly. you can thank me for that one." Red answered shortly, coming to stand beside Vanilla, you knew. "but part of it was stretch. he's still picking shards out of his ass."

From where you stood, hidden behind the wall near to Edge, you watched the group. The tall monster walked forward, his bag settled in his hand despite its obvious weight.

He must have been the doctor everyone was talking about. But who was the other one?

Well, the _other one_ was now staring straight at you, a coy smile on his face at having spotted you hiding.

The crack running down from his left eye to his mouth curved with his grin, his left eye socket sagging as though he'd been injured at one point. You'd noticed the same occurrence with the other monster as well.

Maybe it hadn't been an injury, after all. Monsters were so curious, it very well could have been part of their design.

Regardless, you hid further behind the wall, waiting until you were to be called down, if at all, to greet them.

This made the new monster relent with a shake of his head, walking forward to join the others in the kitchen.

Their voices grew quiet, too muffled through the floor for you to make anything out. What you did know, however, was one of them was to look at your soul. The one who would help you where Papyrus could not.

It was safe to assume it was the one in the long coat.

Sneaking down the steps to the first floor, you sidled against the wall to listen in on the kitchen. You were surprised, though, to find the voices still sounded muffled. Edge remained where he was, though you could feel the burn of his stare even then.

The monsters were outside on the deck speaking, Red, Vanilla, and the tall one in the long coat. But where was the other one?

"been a while, y'know?" A voice sounded to your left.

You jumped, taking a few steps away from the voice to see that it was the monster in the cropped jacket leaning against the kitchen wall, a bottle of Sea Tea in hand. 

You must not have noticed him when you walked in.

His gaze focused on you for a moment too long, his golden eye light dim before he snapped a smile back at you. "you and red still a thing?" A laugh left him, echoing into the glass bottle at his mouth, "askin' for a friend."

That comment was curious, to say the least.

And perhaps a bit too straightforward.

You knew there had to be something deep between you and Red from before you'd forgotten. It was obvious from the way he acted around you so far--restrained and forced. Like he was holding himself back.

You could only imagine what it must have felt like to love someone only for them not to remember you.

"not in the mood to talk, huh? I feel that." He took a sip, eyes traveling to look outside, where Red and the others were, "my bro's gonna take a look at you. red told us you've had a rough time recently. that right?"

\--

"Why weren't we contacted sooner?" Green questioned Vanilla quietly, watching you interact with G inside the kitchen. The clip of his voice was sharp, an edge to it that betrayed his calm demeanor. 

Even from outside the cabin, he could see the extensive damage lingering, "That damage to her soul is catastrophic. How long has it been like that?"

He turned his sharp gaze down to Vanilla, his chin high, "If one of you did this to her, do not think I won't bring this to the King and Queen."

Vanilla was silent next to him, a few blue beads of sweat on his brow. "it's a bit more complicated than that." He wiped the offenders away with his sleeve, "she's been… _missing_."

Green's whole body snapped to face him, his sockets black. Vanilla made it a point to not look directly at him. "we'll talk about it in the lab later, alright? for now, let's just focus on getting y/n looked at."

"trust me, I've got plenty to say." Red growled, his sockets turning upwards to look at one of the windows on the side of the house. "agreed, though. shit can come later. get comfy, and get movin'."

\--

G was… charming.

He was aloof, sure, but he carried with him a carefree, lackadaisical whimsy.

He made it a point to introduce himself, most likely having heard of your memory issues from the others. He tried to kiss the back of your hand, though you'd pulled it back before he got close.

Charming, but not charming enough for that, yet.

He only laughed, "never worked on you, anyway." The admission was coy, easily said like he knew you'd pull away.

The door leading out to the deck opened, and Vanilla was the first to step inside. He looked as though he'd sat under the summer sun for several hours for how much "sweat" was sitting on his skull, Red not too far off. The latter of the two, however, made it a point to at least look at you when he came in.

The tallest monster came next, his head barely passing under the door frame before he closed it behind him, deadbolt and all.

"Hello, y/n." He started warmly, "It's good to see you again, though I wish the circumstances were better." His functional eye softened further, "I am led to believe you may not remember me. Is that so?"

Walking up to Green, you felt G follow behind you, his fingers tapping against his now empty bottle of tea.

You nodded your head in confirmation, and extended a hand out to Green, noticing his expression shift as though he hadn't expected the gesture.

Nevertheless, he took your hand in his and shook lightly. You tried to ignore the way the hole in his palm felt against yours, a surge of warmth there.

You made sure not to make the same mistake in shaking hands as you did when you'd first met Sans. Green didn't seem to mind, regardless.

"I'm surprised to see you up and about, admittedly." Green commented, releasing your hand after a few uncomfortable seconds. The warmth that was left on your palm quickly dissipated. "I hear I may have to thank Crooks for that."

"we'll get them a fruit basket." G joked at your ear, "they'll like that, yeah?"

"Now then, y/n, I'd like to examine you when you're ready. To get down to brass tacks. I've only _heard_ of what may have happened." Green looked to Vanilla and Red, and then over to Edge who stood at the entrance to the kitchen. "As much as that's worth. G and I will--"

G circled around you and spun you toward the living room, pushing lightly on your back to get you moving, "not gettin' any better standin' here. c'mon, angel."

You were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, Blue now at your side to grab at your hand gently, "THE QUICKER WE GET YOU BETTER, THE QUICKER WE CAN GET YOU BACK TO NORMAL."

Honestly, you didn't even remember what normal was supposed to be when it came to you.

" **G**." Green warned, and yet followed behind the three of you as both Blue and G pushed you up the stairs. "At her pace, please."

"souls don't heal themselves, now do they?" If he could have carried you up the steps, he would have. Though, he didn't want to risk whatever fight you may have put up.

Blue pulled you up the last step and into the hall, and that's when you noticed Red already standing at your bedroom door, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. How he'd gotten up there without taking the stairs, you didn't know.

Dragged past the mysterious room to the right, you felt your heart hammer in your chest, a shadow seen just under the closed door.

_Someone was there._

_Someone was listening._

Red opened your bedroom door for you as you were coaxed inside, leaving it ajar as Green and Vanilla entered soon after.

With everyone suddenly inside your bedroom, the once large space felt rather cramped, especially with the addition of Vanilla and Edge. Thankfully, Black and Mutt were nowhere to be found--you weren't sure how you'd deal with their brand of… _hospitality_.

Green sensed this as he set his bag down at the side of your bed, shooing Blue and G away so you could have some much needed air. You sat on your comforter uncomfortably, and waited for Green to say something, glad that he'd allowed you to breathe for a few seconds.

And here you thought you could do this at your own pace, allowed to take your time and choose when to be looked at. You supposed the others were right, though, in their worry. The dull pain in your chest appeared once you'd thought about it, no worse than it was when you'd woken up.

How long that would last, you didn't know.

Maple poked his head into the room but didn't enter, having already noticed how tight the space was. For a moment, you imagined it was Papyrus, that small thought enough to alleviate some of your anxiety as Green pulled out a thick book, a pen, and a pad of lined paper.

Taking the chair placed at the side of your dresser, he set it down next to your bed, motioning for you to lay down.

You didn't.

The thought of feeling so exposed, literally belly-up in front of a gaggle of monsters you hardly knew, left you frozen in place.

Green peered at you for several seconds, his face unreadable before he twisted in his chair, "If you all could allow her some privacy, please. I'm sure she appreciates the gesture, but right now, you're not helping."

Edge was the first to leave, standing outside the room with Maple as Vanilla slowly backed toward the door, "try not to poke and prod too much, doc." He joked, and then suddenly realized how that sentence could have been taken the wrong way, "you know what I meant."

He, too, joined them out in the hall.

Instead of heading to the door, Blue came closer to the bed, his hands pressed into the soft quilt that lay on it, "CAN I STAY? I… I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE."

Before Green could speak, Red beat him to it, "you wanna see what her soul looks like? blue, now ain't the time to be actin' like a cree--"

"NO." Blue interjected, "I WANT TO SEE WHAT PAPY DID. I WANT TO SEE IT FOR MYSELF."

Red let out a low growl at that, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as static started to fill the air. "blue. ain't gonna warn ya again."

"Enough." Green stopped them from going at each other's throats, using a bit of his own magic to spin Blue around on his heel and push him toward the door, "I'll not have the two of you stressing her further. Both of you leave, please."

Red snapped his teeth shut with a loud clack, running his shoes across the wood of the floor. He would have been a bit more intimidating if it weren't for a squeak with every step he took.

Harrumphing outside the room, Blue stood with his arms crossed between Edge and Maple, Vanilla behind him as a pair of white eye lights, "YOU, TOO, **RED**."

"gimme a minute." Red threw the door closed in their faces before he looked over his shoulder at the three of you still in the room, G appearing amused by the kerfuffle that just took place. "fuck." He finished under his breath.

Taking a few steps forward, he stopped short of the bed, Green between the two of you. G sat on the chest at the foot of the bed, chin propped on his palm with a sly grin.

"be careful, alright?" He asked rather quietly, Green's scowl softening. "but, um, if maybe I could see it before I left."

Green was about to protest, but you cleared your throat to grab his attention. If they were going to push you into this, you were allowed to have a choice in the matter.

It was your soul after all.

To your side, you could hear G snicker, knowing all too well how he'd use this as ammunition later should he choose.

With Green's attention, you nodded, consenting to let Red see your soul before he left with the others. If you and the monster were as close as he let on, this couldn't have been the first time, right?

"As you wish." Green replied simply, and leaned forward, "If you'll sit straight, please."

"ya got nothing to worry about with green, angel. bro knows what he's doin'." G leant on the bed, appearing just as interested as Red in seeing your soul first-hand.

Steadying his hand in front of your chest, Green closed his eyes, his fingers curling into a fist. You felt a pressure in your sternum, similar to how Papyrus made you feel when he'd done it, then a pop as a small heart wafted out into the open.

It appeared in better shape than it had when you'd seen it originally, but it was obvious that the hole was trying to return--a dark patch in the center of what color was left.

Red was mesmerized, his teeth slightly parted as he watched the heart float somewhat miserably around in front of you, curiously darting toward the skeleton at your toes.

One of his hands rose, you noticed, almost as if he wanted to touch your soul, though he quickly thought against it.

There was a beat of silence, his mouth tight.

Red let his shoulders fall before he made his way to the door, opening it quietly before stepping out and sealing it behind him without a word.

Green sighed and straightened himself in his chair, "I apologize for their behavior. I hear you've been gone for a little over a week now. Is that correct?"

Nodding, you pulled your legs onto the bed and tried your best to relax. Your soul followed with you like being pulled on a leash, a slight delay as you moved.

Now that Red and the others left the room, it was unnaturally quiet inside. There was a feeling of loss after their wake, and you couldn't help but want Red to come back. 

And maybe only Red.

Looking at your exposed soul made him embarrassed, you thought. It was radically different for monsters to see it out in the open, you knew, but it didn't change the fact that it felt like the tiny heart was drifting toward the door.

Green inspected the small, human soul that floated in front of him quizzically. His one good eye focused intently on it, his hands coming up to curl around the heart without touching it--to keep it in place.

"This won't hurt. It will help you relax as I begin the examination. Is that alright?" Green looked to you as you laid down, propped up slightly by your pillows.

Nodding, you felt a surge of… something course through you, the world desaturating before your eyes as the feeling of white noise traveled down your arms and legs.

Whatever he was doing, you felt your breathing slow down, your limbs grow heavy.

You were safely put under with the aid of magic, subdued that he hadn't the need to worry about stressing you further.

You were still conscious, but it felt surreal, completely out of body--as if you were there and not there at the same time.

Through half-idled eyes, you glanced at the doctor at your side, the cracks running up and down his skull softened and blurred in your haze.

You hardly felt him take your soul into his hands fully and bring it closer. His bony fingers were warm as he ran a pad over the dark patch, his others delicately wrapped around the heart to hold it steady.

Every move against that tiny heart sent a jolt through your body, an electrical zap no stronger than a static charge.

You would describe Green's appearance as cold, if you hadn't known any better. Calculating and exact as he examined you.

There was a warmth there, however. Calming and serene. His intention wasn't to hurt you, your soul inherently knew, and it put it at ease immediately.

Somewhere in the room, G said something, yet you were unable to make it out. It sounded as though he was speaking underwater, the noise muffled and waving.

Ignoring your inability to hear him, you stared at your soul weakly. The sheen of orange that was there from Papyrus had since faded, the true color of the heart shining through again, though dully.

Was it supposed to be so muted?

Green shut his eyes and attempted to imbue just a bit of magic into the heart that floated almost perfectly in the holes in his palms. They glowed a bright green, like that of fresh spring leaves, and emitted a deep, comforting heat.

But nothing came of it.

His working eye snapped back open and his skull scrunched up around his nose. "That's very odd." You managed to hear him say, perhaps easier because of his proximity.

G jumped from the chest and stepped closer at that, coming into your field of view. He bent at the waist to inspect your soul, his eyes soft as he examined the heart in his brother's hand. "lost your _magic touch_ , bro?"

Unabashedly, G took the heart into his own hand and stood straight. Despite Green's attempts to get it back, G simply skipped a few feet away out of your field of view.

"Careful, please." Green warned as the warmth around your soul left.

A laugh escaped G, "seems like y/n's soul has some issues." He stated cooly, out of sight as he circled the rug on the floor. "you've gotten some baggage while I was gone, huh?

You peered at Green, who moved to hold one of your hands in between his. "you think it has anything to do with honey-boy?" G asked, and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you assumed someone was now prodding at the heart.

You hadn't realised how cold your fingers were until the heat of Green's bones seeped through your flesh.

Green replied slowly, adjusting himself in his chair, "It has everything to do with him. sans and the others will explain more after we're done here." 

You didn't know who they were talking about. Sans? Sans was with his brother, in the woods.

Why would they talk to him? Was he here?

Whoever did this to your soul? Is that who they meant?

"I'm beginning to believe her soul may have to confront him if it wishes to fully heal. The underlying trauma--" Green was cut short by G, who tossed your soul from one hand to the other, "Careful!"

"it's not gonna hurt her. relax." G hopped into the bed and crossed his legs, shimmying across until he sat beside you, "honey-boy, on the other hand, already did a number on ya, huh?"

Your eyes met, his face and the world around it painted black-and-white. "you thinkin' her soul's only gonna heal if she makes right with him?" A hiss escaped between G's teeth, "long shot. this little thing is already on edge being in the house with him. HoPe's too low right now, too. wouldn't tempt it. not for a while."

Green heaved a deep sigh, and took the heart that was extended to him, releasing your hand gently, "We can continue to attempt to heal her in the meantime. Perhaps with enough doses of green magic, her soul may grow stronger naturally over time."

Both of Green's hands encompassed your soul, the color of it seen shining through the holes in his palms, "This won't hurt, Y/N."

The magic glowed even brighter than before, emanating from his palms in pulses. Each pulse beat in rhythm with your heart, Green's face one of deep concentration.

There was a sharp crack, like the feeling after lightning struck too close for comfort. Your body jolted on the bed, a surge of electricity coursing through your skin like gooseflesh.

You definitely felt it now, whatever he was doing.

The heat around your soul was growing, almost painfully so, spreading into your body like a flame through a dry field. Your felt your body tense up, muscles going taut, your body wanting to curl in on itself.

_There was a monster._

_With magic the color of the setting sun._

_A miserable, jealous monster._

_He'd lost what you'd given him freely._

_He did it to himself._

_It broke your heart._

A pressure landed on your shoulders, G holding you down in case you convulsed, in case the green magic became too much. "you're doin' good. I got ya."

You were almost glad now that Red and the others didn't see you like this.

_He wasn't always like that._

_What changed?_

A jolt went through your body, a headache forming in a flash as a searing heat spread through your chest.

_When did it all fall apart?_

"Shh, shh, you're alright." Green tried, his eyes flashing a brilliant emerald several more times before he relaxed, the light around his hands leaving.

The painful heat in your body began to dissipate, your eyes snapping open after you realized you'd screwed them shut. G still held you down, the cocky look on his face neutral as he watched Green open his hands.

In his palm was your soul, its original color shining bright against the contours of his face. A look of accomplishment crossed his features, a sigh escaping between his teeth. "There. That's enough for now."

The heart floated upwards a bit, bobbing this way and that as if full of energy. A feeling you wished you could have at that moment.

"It may take some time to fully heal, but I believe we're on the right track." Green wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, "There's more to this than simple magic, however. You'll need to confront the source, y/n."

"later, bro." G commented, slowly releasing his hold on your shoulders. Surely, you'd have bruises there later. "baby steps."

He sat back, letting your soul waft around a bit before it naturally began its descent toward you. It sat for a moment above your chest, hesitating to go back before G gave it a nudge into your body with one finger.

"they're stubborn like that sometimes. I see why ya like red so much."

With your soul back inside you, you felt invigorated, snapping up from your reclined position to sit straight as an arrow.

"How do you feel?" Green asked, not knowing if you'd speak or not.

Making a motion of flexing your hands, the static that was there before was completely gone, replaced with a welcome heat.

You felt as though you'd laid in the sun for a while, your whole body warmed to the core.

"you've got a few more sessions like that before we leave, but I'm happy to see ya like this." G grabbed one of your hands, pretending to inspect it, "I've got some personal sessions we can do, if you like."

Quicker than he could register, you pulled your hand back, a brow raised to question him.

G knew exactly what he was doing.

Getting under your skin.

Lightening the moment as best he could with his own brand of off-the-wall flirtation.

"Time and a place." Green warned, yet paid his brother no mind, "Would you mind standing for me?"

Without hesitation, you rose from the bed and stood, only realising then how tall Green was compared to you. He nearly put Papyrus to shame.

The ache in your chest was gone, replaced with a lightness you hadn't expected. You felt like you could run a mile a minute, your skin tingling beneath your clothes.

Green held you steady, his large hands on your shoulders while he scanned your face and chest. Ignoring the blush that wanted to creep up your neck, you knew he was only looking at how your soul was reacting to his magic.

"I think we're on the right track." Releasing you, he took up his notepad and began to write something down, flipping open the large book on your bed to a page of what looked to be a human specimen.

The image was basic, unlike a normal human female anatomical model. From what you could discern, there was mention of several soul colors, and their importance.

Your gaze fell on green: kindness.

It fit with the doctor in front of you, despite his outward appearance. He hardly knew you--no, that wasn't right. He **did** know you. You didn't know **him**.

You wondered what kind of magic G had. Perhaps yellow, if only based on the color of his one eye light.

With that last thought, you heard the door to your room creak open, one red eye peering inside. For a moment, you thought it may have been Sans, your body going rigid.

When Red pushed open the door all the way, though, you relaxed, his grin weak. He mimicked Green's stare, eyes focused too long on the center of your chest before his face softened a bit.

Blue rushed past him, his eyes wide, only to let out a whine of disappointment when he got close, "I DIDN'T GET TO SEE IT!"

"only way you're seeing it is in a fight, and look how well that turned out." Red rubbed the butt of his hand against the top of Blue's skull, the smaller skeleton swatting the offender away.

The look on Blue's face spoke volumes, his hands tapping at his shorts, "WE CAN HAVE A FIGHT, THEN! I JUST WANNA SEE IT."

"ya just wanna snitch. honey-boy doesn't have the right to know." Red weaseled around Blue, effectively blocking him from you. "'sides, it's doctor's orders, right?"

Green responded quickly, sensing the situation escalating, "I want y/n to relax for a while, Blue. No confrontations for the foreseeable future, please." Blue's mouth hinged open, ready to talk back, "Doctor's orders."

"now that that's out of the way for a bit," Vanilla started, motioning for Red, Green, and G, "I wanna fill you in on the details. downstairs."

Green held his papers against his chest, leaving the large book on your bed as he took a step forward. G came next, slithering from the bed like a lazy cat until he stood up next to you.

With an arm around your shoulders, he leant in close, a hand to your ear, "don't play too rough." He then beelined to the door himself, joining Vanilla and the others out in the hall.

Green went next, followed by a hesitant Red. Apparently, they were going to speak downstairs about something. And by the looks on their faces, it was something gravely important.

"Please refrain from anything strenuous for now, y/n. I'll be checking you again this evening to monitor your progress." Green spoke before he, too, went into the hall.

Vanilla stared at you from outside the room, Red to his side, "we'll talk later, kid. nothin' to worry about."

And when they left, Blue, Edge, and Maple remained. 

All of them stared at you expectantly, Edge still poised with his arms across his chest, face in an unending scowl. You wondered if he ever smiled.

What would those sharp teeth look like?

Blue seemed to be contemplating something, his star eyes darting around the room--anywhere but you. It was obvious he wanted to say something on what happened a few minutes ago, yet was thinking better of it.

He didn't want to put himself in more hot water.

Not with Edge behind him.

If Red couldn't be there to watch you, his brother would take his place.

You realised then what Vanilla meant earlier that morning. Edge was to keep tabs on you as you got used to the house again, to ensure Blue or anyone else didn't alienate you, or potentially make it harder for you to remember.

To try and desperately see your soul.

"NOW THAT THEY'VE TAKEN A LOOK AT YOU," Maple began, expressing a smile despite the tension mounting, "HOW ABOUT YOU SEE MY ROOM? AND THEN THE GARDEN?"

This snapped Blue out of his gloom, his hands balling into fists in front of him, "YEAH! AND THEN TOMORROW WE'LL GO INTO TOWN!"

While Blue and Maple excitedly gathered around you, Edge stayed vigilant, a quiet "nyeh" under his breath.

\--

Maple and Blue were quick to take you out of your room and into the former's, presenting it much in the way the latter had earlier. Only this time, Edge made it apparent he was watching.

Maple's room was eerily similar to Papyrus', down to the way it was laid out and the curious rug on the floor. How many flame rugs were there honestly, and why did you know two people who had them?

The action figures were another curious similarity, though Maple's were less worn, their paint less chipped, and generally cleaner. Nothing against Papyrus, or course. His only looked like they'd seen years of wear on them, as though they were taken in secondhand.

Maple lent you a scarf, wrapping it loosely around your neck before whisking you downstairs and out the front door. Blue bound out behind him, followed by Edge, and together the lot of you headed to a large patch not far from the house.

It lay toward the back, on the outside of the fenced-in deck, a collection of winter flowers blooming wonderfully among tall patches of dark soil. 

There were a variety of pansies, primroses, and violas in an array of colors. They grew tall and plenty, well-taken-care-of despite the cold. Maple gladly proclaimed they were his collection, and that they'd been some of your favourites since you'd resided there.

Come warmer months, he'd collect what he could and cycle out the old flowers with the new, bringing some to the upcoming festival not far from then in the meantime.

Edge said nothing as he eyed the three of you, the other monsters gathered in some unknown part of the house you couldn't discern. A basement, maybe?

Maple promised to plant your favourite flowers in the spring, as well, vowing he'd "TAKE ESPECIALLY GOOD CARE OF THEM".

From where you stood, the back of the house could be seen, though you couldn't make much of the deck from where you were at. You could see a pool extending out from beneath the wood and into the ground, the makings of cinder block indicating that there was, in fact, a basement under the house.

After some time outside, your face began to grow cold. When Maple and Blue finally noticed the way you rubbed at your arms, it was unanimously decided to head back inside… Where Black and Mutt subsequently tried to squirrel you away from your "guardians".

You lost track of Edge, then, which may have been for the best, as Maple and Blue declared they would be making dinner starting, well, then.

Whatever "spaghetti friend tacos" were, you knew damn well there was no place for glitter in any recipe--human, monster, or otherwise.

When finally Red, Vanilla, Green, and G appeared again, you found yourself sitting at the island in the kitchen watching chaos unfold around the stove. 

It was then that delivery became a viable option for the night, something branded by that robotic Calculator Man again--Mettaton?

Whatever it was, it certainly didn't have glitter in it. And for that, you were thankful.

For your first official day back, it went well. You may not have seen all you wanted to see, and Edge shadowed you all throughout the day, keeping Blue in check and Black and Mutt from trying something again. But you'd found you'd enjoyed yourself, forgetting for a bit that you weren't around Papyrus and Sans anymore.

You knew the monsters you were with were simply happy to have you back, hopefully safe and sound. The matter concerning Sans would have to come later.

For now, all you knew was that all through dinner, Red couldn't keep his eyes off you despite how well he tried to hide it. The solemn look in his eyes was gone, replaced with an apprehension that you knew had everything to do with not knowing him.

It must have been eating him up inside not to be able to act the way he used to around you.

He sat next to his brother in silence, letting the others at the table do the talking, mostly Maple and Blue with occasional quips from G.

Green was somewhat talkative, going over the various procedures he'd done as a doctor several towns over. He was fascinating to say the least, and obviously held a deep love for the work he was doing helping those in need. And G did odd-jobs from what it sounded like, but didn't bother to go into detail.

You were stuck between Blue and Mutt at the table, and you tried your best to ignore the way the larger of the two's gaze was boring into your head. Perhaps that was just the awkwardness that was Mutt. Perhaps it was a complete lack of subtlety.

Perhaps it was something else. You weren't sure you wanted to know.

What you did know was that Blue and Black fought over the chair on the other side of you, neither of them fully victorious as they ended up sharing it when there came to be no more room at the table itself.

"oops, what an accident," Vanilla joked when he noticed. Followed by the word "boner", which he then had to explain sheepishly meant "mistake" when Maple all but railed into him.

After dinner, Green inspected you again, though didn't remove your soul completely, allowing Blue to stand beside him as he checked.

Your HoPe was still dangerously low, but the visible mar on your soul wasn't as distinguishable from the outside as before.

Could Blue not see your soul unless it was out?

Was it that Green could more readily see because of him being a doctor? Or was it something else?

Regardless, the warmth everyone tried to bring helped you relax around them, though not completely. There was still someone you were missing. Someone you knew wasn't too far away, in a cabin hidden by the woods.

\--

Papyrus hadn't come by that night.

You didn't blame him if he needed to stay home and tend to his brother, his chickens, and his crops. You expected no less from him. 

He was kind enough to have visited last night, slept there with you in his arms, leaving only when he desperately had to in the morning.

How was Sans doing?

You shook your head. 

It didn't matter how he was doing right now. You wanted to keep some of the anger and indignation you had toward him alive, ready to pull out if and when you saw him again.

_When you saw him again._

Would you ever see him again? How would you react?

The clock across the room ticked by, the hour hand reading just past three in the morning.

There were still noises from within the house, but they came from above, to the side of your room.

The third floor.

Your only assumption was that Vanilla and his brother had rooms on the uppermost floor. Or perhaps an observatory of sorts. Why else would anyone (aside from yourself) be awake that late at night?

It could have been Green and G in another room upstairs. You weren't entirely sure where everyone was staying, Black and Mutt included.

The wood floor was cold under your feet as you slid out of bed, your throat dry from having not had water since you laid down. The sink in your bathroom would have done the trick, but part of you wanted the crisp water that only came from the wonders of the fridge filter.

Wondrous, indeed.

Coming up to your door, an owl, outside in one of the trees, hooted at your moving, perhaps seeing you through the skylights of your ceiling. You ignored the noise and opened the door into the hall quietly.

There was faint music from within Red's room--you couldn't really make out whatever it was--but nothing from Blue or Edge's. Those two were obviously asleep.

Unless Blue was doing what everyone has done at one point to pretend they're asleep: turn off all the lights and play games from under the sheets of your bed.

You crept slowly down the hall, wary of the creaky parts of the floorboards, and made your way to the stairs. As much as you would have liked to have conversation to lull you to sleep, Edge was not the way to go.

And Doomfanger hardly seemed the social type.

From the top of the stairs, you spotted Mutt asleep on the couch, his coat thrown over him like a makeshift blanket. He was actually asleep this time, his snores very much real, his teeth parted as his tongue lolled out of his mouth slightly.

You half-expected to find someone in the kitchen, but there was no one when you entered. It was just you, and the one light that stayed on above the sink.

Soon, you found your thirst sated, but your tiredness had not yet come. Perhaps it was anxiety, or maybe it was just you were still getting used to your surroundings.

Whatever Green had done helped with the pain in your chest, much like Papyrus had done previously. But with the Doctor, he asked to take a look at you again in the morning.

Staring at the fridge, you looked at the various photos stuck to its surface with magnets. There was Vanilla and Maple, one of you and… a purple cat and green alligator? The girls seemed to be giggling with you in that picture, all teeth and claws, their mouths wide with mirth.

The next ones were of Red and Edge, a few of Black and Mutt, and several more you didn't recognize.

There was someone who resembled Doctor Green, but his harsh angles and angry eyes deterred you from staring further. There was a small human next to him, though, her hands wrapped around the arm of his black coat.

There was another, though the picture was blurred somewhat. They wore a blue coat like quite a few of the skeletons (you were beginning to notice a pattern), but there was a bright red scarf coiled around their neck.

You could hardly make out their face from under their hood, but what you could see was a grin that was eerily close to Sans'. Their eyes shone a dark red and purple. It was oddly pretty.

Oh, and in another photo, those goat monsters from the Festival commercial.

_The festival._

You wondered, sadly, if Papyrus would be able to come along with you. Would Green even allow you to go into town over the weekend to see the sights?

Maybe it would spark a memory in you?

It was hard to tell right then.

You were getting close to a breakthrough. You just knew it--could feel it in your bones.

Figuratively, of course. Not like the skeletons in the house. They felt it in their bones differently.

Satisfied, you tread from the kitchen and noted Mutt hadn't moved from his spot. You wondered where Black was if his brother was asleep on the couch. Was there a guest room somewhere nearby? A pool house maybe?

The pool.

Despite the late hour, you hadn't a chance the previous day to go out onto the deck. And now your curiosity was piqued to the point where sleep wasn't even on the forefront of your mind.

Scanning the living room, you spotted a set of double doors leading into an enclosed room, and just beyond it the rear yard.

Gently opening them, the wood creaking in the process, you stepped out into the closed-in porch. This part of the deck was encased in glass, a number of lounge chairs situated against the walls around a reed mat.

And through the next set of doors?

The air was chilly as you stepped outside, two flood lights coming to life when you came into view. They illuminated the rear deck, the pool you'd assumed to be there uncovered and very much clean.

You supposed winter didn't inhibit skeletons from wanting to go for a swim, or a dunk in the hot tub inlaid in the deck itself. All they would have to do is step down into it. What was cold to bones, much less heat?

The image of Blue catapulting himself into the hot tub made you smile for a moment. You had no doubt he'd already done it at some point.

There was a gazebo on the other side of the pool, its curtain drawn back to show a large, nearly bed-sized lounge chair. Not one for drying off on, obviously.

Behind the house, you could look up the slope of the mountainside and up toward the peak far off in the distance. Clouds covered most of it, obscuring the tiptop from view.

You wondered, for a moment, if Sans was still awake. Surely Papyrus wasn't. Not when the chickens needed tending to in the morning, just when the sun rose.

Stepping around the pool, you laid your hands on the railing surrounding the deck, the wood cold against your palms. Out in the forest, you heard the owl you assumed was hooting earlier, up in a tall tree in the darkness.

For several minutes, you simply took in your surroundings: the mountain, the deck, the sounds from the forest and the distant hum of the hot tub.

The flood lights turned off then, having ended their cycle. They'd come back on when you moved toward the house again.

But what got you was the faint light still shining down from somewhere. It was enough to cast your shadow onto the grass past the deck, faint enough though that you appeared to be nothing more than a blob.

Turning, you glanced back at the house, hoping to find where the light was coming from.

Only to see it was a room on the second floor.

The blinds were drawn up, the light from within coming from a dim lamp. There was no one visible inside, but a shadow on the wall told you otherwise.

It wasn't Blue's room. His was to the immediate right.

It was the room you'd hadn't seen inside of yet. The one that gave you the sense of dread when merely walking past it. Even now, you felt anxiety swell in your chest, but it was faint and only noticeable when you thought about it.

The shadow inside shifted, and someone stepped forward, toward the window. They couldn't have possibly seen you in the dark as you shited slowly out of the light, making your way to the gazebo.

It was another skeleton, his orange hoodie bright against the wood walls of his room. You hadn't seen him around the house, neither at meals nor when you were getting to know the others again.

But you _had_ seen someone similar in your dream that morning.

His face was a blur from far away, the light of the lamp behind him making it hard to focus on anything but the color of his clothes.

He simply stared out the window, probably roused by the flood lights turning off, and looked into the yard. If he truly saw you or not was up for debate, but you slowly made your way closer to the house.

Monsters couldn't see in the dark, could they?

All you had to do was sneak your way back inside and go up to your room.

Easy.

Except the flood lights decided to come back on again.

The light blinded you for a second, and you scurried the rest of the way, only slowing when you stepped back inside the porch. 

The cold from outside disappeared as you shut the door quietly behind your heels. You weren't sure if you felt better about being in the house versus outside it, especially if it meant being close to that mysterious room upstairs.

With a deep sigh, you shakily walked back into the main house. Only then did you notice Mutt was now laid on his front on the couch, his lazy eyes staring at you from under the fringe of his hood.

His gold teeth glinted in the dim light coming from the kitchen, the gleam of his eyes shining in the dark. "somethin' spook ya, darlin'?" He asked in a drawl, low and slow.

You shook your head, lying despite the way your heart was beating madly in your chest.

Mutt didn't seem to believe you, a short snort coming out of his nose, but said nothing on the matter. He only continued to watch you from over the arm of the couch, his spine twisted awkwardly.

"can't sleep?" Was all that came next, his voice muffled by the pillow just barely between his teeth. "why don'cha come over here. _I got somethin' that'll help._ "

\--

Mettaton was on the TV again, though when seen through the clear 4K quality of the screen versus the old VHS tapes Papyrus had, you could see the appeal the robotic… er, monster had to offer.

Mutt was knocked out next to you, having fallen asleep not long after he'd turned on the television. You'd been wary of his advances a bit ago, only to be caught off guard by his complete unwant for physical contact.

It made you think that maybe he was just anxious. Or maybe he had a thing about people touching him in general. You couldn't blame him, in all honesty.

It must be odd to have someone familiar sit next to him, only for you not to remember a lick about him. That kind of thing probably did wonders for his self-esteem.

But he slept quietly, his unbelievably long legs pulled up onto the couch and against his chest. It was similar to how Papyrus slept that morning on your bed, like the pose brought an unconscious comfort to him. Maybe it was the same with Mutt.

You had to admit, however, that you did feel slightly tired, the clock under the television reading around 4 in the morning. Your eyes burned hot, the front of your mind foggy like it wanted nothing more than to turn in for the night.

And you desperately wished it would.

A sudden noise from the front door caught your attention, like someone clearing their throat from out on the porch. You sunk low into the couch like Mutt, laying your head on the opposite arm and closing your eyes.

And even though you didn't hear the door open, the room filled with a faint static, there was the sound of shoes on hardwood flooring.

The shoes came to a stop, your eyes still closed as you held a plush couch pillow to your face to hide.

Try as you might, your breathing was hard to control, your nose squished against the pillow in an attempt to hide your face from whomever it was that was now in the room.

The steps grew closer to the couch, the wood creaking under the weight of whatever or whoever was approaching you.

But they stopped, probably not far from where you were at.

You kept yourself from tensing up, letting out a small "nngh"-like sound as though you were asleep and dreaming. 

It was enough to stop them from coming any closer.

Suddenly, the light from the television clicked off, the room dark and quiet as the figure slowly walked away from where you lay.

Confident that your eyes were hidden in the dark, you cracked one open and peered into the spacious living room.

Only then did you see Red lingering at the stairs before he slowly made his way up to his room.

_You thought he'd been home this whole time._

Maybe the music in his room was just a ruse to keep Edge from chewing him out for staying late somewhere. That, or to keep "Larry" company.

When you were certain Red was gone, you moved the pillow from your face and took a deep breath. Mutt still hadn't stirred, though his tongue was once again hanging from his mouth.

Mutt was certainly an apt name.

As you lay there, a creak could be heard upstairs. A door opened, followed by faint steps to and down the stairwell.

You already placed the pillow back against your face to hide, worried that it may have been Red again.

He could have simply forgotten something.

He may have forgotten to lock the door he didn't open.

It may have been that he was thirsty just like you'd been. That's why he was coming back in your direction and most certainly not to the kitchen.

It may have been that he wanted to say goodnight.

**It may have been Blue.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking so long! I didn't mean for it to be four months between chapters!
> 
> Please tell me if there are any egregious errors or mistakes! 17,600 words does stuff to you!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Healing a Dear Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19351864) by [BerBelPrime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerBelPrime/pseuds/BerBelPrime)




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